Classic Poem

When the sun is shining o'er us,
And our duties lie before us,
We lay our wishes by on secret shelves:
In their napkins, wrapped securely,
We enfold them, thinking surely
They are hidden both from others and ourselves.

But when slumber sweetly holds us,
And in velvet arms enfold us,
And the moonlight through the curtain faintly streams;
Then from out their hiding places,
Clad in soft, bewitching graces,
Come our wishes to inspire and rule our dreams.

How they haunt the midnight pillow!
How the pulse swells, like a billow,
As the dreamer clasps the thing he most desires!
And his throbbing heart rejoices
As he hears enchanting voices
Singing, keeping rythmic time to golden lyres.

Wants he riches? power? honor?
Fancy is a lavish donor,
All he craves bestowing on his longing soul.
Oh, the ripe, delicious sweetness!
Oh, the rare and rich completeness,
As he quaffs with thirsty lips the brimming bowl!

But alas! the sudden waking,
When above the hill tops breaking,
With its weary burdens bringing, comes the day!
Then the dreamer grasps the real,
Puts aside his sweet ideal,
Deftly hides his dream within its nook away.