The Dream

Love, if I weep it will not matter,

  And if you laugh I shall not care;

Foolish am I to think about it,

  But it is good to feel you there.

Love, in my sleep I dreamed of waking, —

  White and awful the moonlight reached

Over the floor, and somewhere, somewhere,

  There was a shutter loose, —it screeched!

Swung in the wind, — and no wind blowing! —

  I was afraid, and turned to you,

Put out my hand to you for comfort, —

  And you were gone!  Cold, cold as dew,

Under my hand the moonlight lay!

  Love, if you laugh I shall not care,

But if I weep it will not matter, —

  Ah, it is good to feel you there!

Edna St. Vincent Millay, 1892 - 1950