I saw this line on a journal cover at Barnes today. It accompanied a mysterious, whimsical cover picture of a black (or silhouetted) cat pawing at a tree against a deep purple background. Sort of Halloween-ish. The line reminded me of the nursery tune Row, row, row your boat (...merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream!)
Here is the rest of the poem by Edgar Allan Poe (a Poet with a silent 't'):
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?
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?
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