Dear, though the night is gone
Its dream still haunts today,
That brought us to a room
Cavernous, lofty as
A railway terminus,
And crowded in that room
Were beds, and we in one
In a far corner lay.
Our whisper woke no clocks,
We kissed and I was glad
At everything you did,
Indifferent to those
Who sat with hostile eyes
In pairs on every bed,
Arms round each others necks,
Inert and vaguely sad.
O but what worm of guilt
Or what malignant doubt
Am I the victim of,
That you then, unabashed,
Did what I never wished,
Confessed another love;
And I, submissive, felt
Unwanted and went out.

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First published in New Verse, April-May 1936, revised 1936

Text Authorship:

• by W. H. (Wystan Hugh) Auden (1907 - 1973), "The dream" [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):

• by John Reginald Lang-Hyde (1899 - 1990), as Lewis Hyde, "Dear, though the night is gone", 1951 [ voice and piano ] [sung text not yet checked]
• by Ned Rorem (1923 - 2022), "Dear, though the night is gone", 1997, published 1999, from Evidence of Things Not Seen, no. 21 [sung text checked 1 time]

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2004-08-04
Line count: 24
Word count: 111