My Happiest Dream

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I love to look, as evening fails,
On vestals streaming in their veils,
Within the fane past altar rails,
  Green palms in hand.
My darkest moods will always clear
When I can fancy children near,
With rosy lips a-laughing--dear,
  Light-dancing band!

Enchanting vision, too, displayed,
That of a sweet and radiant maid,
Who knows not why she is afraid,--
  Love's yet unseen!
Another--rarest 'mong the rare--
To see the gaze of chosen fair
Return prolonged and wistful stare
  Of eager een.

But--dream o'er all to stir my soul,
And shine the brightest on the roll,
Is when a land of tyrant's toll
  By sword is rid.
I say not dagger--with the sword
When Right enchampions the horde,
All in broad day--so that the bard
May sing the victor with the starred
  Bayard and Cid!

© Victor Marie Hugo