Take This Kiss Upon The Brow! And, In Parting From You Now, Thus Much Let Me Avow You Are Not Wrong, Who Deem That My Days Have Been A Dream: Yet If Hope Has Flown Away In A Night, Or In A Day, In A Vision Or In None, Is It Therefore The Less Gone? All That We See Or Seem Is But A Dream Within A Dream. I Stand Amid The Roar Of A Surf-Tormented Shore, And I Hold Within My Hand Grains Of The Golden Sand How Few! Yet How They Creep Through My Fingers To The Deep While I Weep While I Weep! O God! Can I Not Grasp Them With A Tighter Clasp? O God! Can I Not Save One From The Pitiless Wave? Is All That We See Or Seem But A Dream Within A Dream?