I dream I am lying buried in sand,
Alone and alone for ever and aye;
Parch'd and dry is the terrible land;
I pray but for water before I die.
I dream I am tossing on ocean waves,
Alone and alone for ever and aye;
I shudder to think of the open graves;
Under daisy blossoms I pray to lie.
O daisy buds I am dreaming of _you_,
Alone and alone for ever and aye;
From a dream of daisies scatter'd with dew
I wake with a start, and a piercing cry.
Let me but dream of affliction and shame,
Of saints that punish and sinners that cower,
Of troubles by sickness and sword and flame,
And _not_ of an innocent daisy flower!
I am haunted by words--by seven words--
Seven words echoing everywhere;
They are borne on breezes, and sung by birds,
They are written on earth and sea and air.
I think there is nothing else is my own;
I think there is nothing else is alive;
Seven words and I are always alone;
The world about me may hunger and strive.
I have heard that mystic meaning is hid,
I have heard that wonderful things are made,
Of the number seven--may God forbid--
For I cannot tell, and I feel afraid.
The sweetest poem that ever was writ--
Do you not know it?--is 'We are seven;'
For the dear little girl who talks in it,
Will not give up her brothers in Heaven.
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