Sonnet. "Is it a sin, to wish that I may meet thee"

Is it a sin, to wish that I may meet thee
  In that dim world whither our spirits stray,
  When sleep and darkness follow life and day?
  Is it a sin, that there my voice should greet thee
  With all that love that I must die concealing?
  Will my tear-laden eyes sin in revealing
  The agony that preys upon my soul?
  Is't not enough through the long, loathsome day,
  To hold each look and word in stern control?
  May I not wish the staring sunlight gone,
  Day and its thousand torturing moments done,
  And prying sights and sounds of men away?
  O still and silent Night! when all things sleep,
  Locked in thy swarthy breast my secret keep:
  Come, with thy visioned hopes and blessings now!
  I dream the only happiness I know.