And Shimei slept; a deep dissolving sleep-- Unjointed all his members in remiss Solution of the consciousness of life. A long deep sleep; a dreamless sleep at first, Then, as the hours wore on and still he slept, Delicious reminiscences in dream (Unconscious hoarded treasure of the brain,) Were loosed within him of a dewy dawn Forgotten, and a time when he was young. He had found the fountain in that land of dream, And drunk his fill from it with sweet delight, Famed for its virtue to renew in youth. The old man was a boy again, at home, A Hebrew home though on an alien shore. Perhaps some soft insinuation crept Into his sleep from that last waking sense Of his, the sense, to him unwonted long-- A lonely man, of wife, of child, bereft, Who never sister's gentleness had known-- Of touch from woman's hand; however it was, Shimei a vision of his mother had. A son, her only, by his mother's knee, That mother's blossoming hope, her joy, her pride, He felt the benediction of a hand, Her hand, laid like a softness on his brow; And Shimei's lips, no longer thin and cold, But warm now, and with flush of lifeblood full, Moved in responsive welcome of a kiss, Her kiss, and holy, like a touch of chrism. How fair the vision was that then he saw! How sweet the tones were that once more he heard! Such sound, such sight, were better than sweet sleep; And the fond sleeper fain would wake, to dream So good a dream awake, and to the full Taste it, with senses and with soul nowise Bound from the right fruition of their feast.