The Tunnel

Sitting with strangers in the hurrying train, We spoke not to each other. Golden May Flooded those warm fields greener from the rain, Then sudden darkness stole it all away. Her face was gone; but on the dark I framed Its features, to my fancy's utmost height, And with love's utmost fondness, never named, Painted the image of my life's delight. But lo! a gleam the window's edge outlined, And beautifully dawning through the gloom, She came back, O how much more than my mind Had pictured, triumphing in breath and bloom! Then I, ashamed, gave thanks with joy; I knew That my best dream was bettered by the true.