What Dreams May Come
What dreams may come In dark of night, when sleep descends On heavy-lidded eyes; and then Unconscious lies the dreamer, blind To all except his weary mind? What dreams may come When waking fails, and aching heart, That long has kindled hope’s faint spark, Must respite take from toils of day And in the arms of sleep thus lay? What dreams may come In smallest hours, when curtain thins Between the nightingale and wren, And sleepers know not if they wake, Or drowsy, float on slumber’s lake? What dreams may come? No man may tell for certain; such Great myst’ries lie beyond the touch Of mortal hand. Yet shall dreams come, And go again, before the sun.