Classic Poem

If all the sky were full of stars
And all the hills of grass,
And all the roofs of chimney-pots
How well the time would pass.

If there were streets where folk went by
And fields were flowers grew
And roads ran up against the hill
I know what I shall do.

I think that if they gave me leave
Within that world to stand
I would be good for all the day,
I spent in fairyland

They should not hear a word from me
Of selfishness or scorn
If only I could find the way,
If only I were born.