THE POET’S EPITAPH
Dreams fade with morning light,
Never a morn for thee,
Dreamer of dreams, good-night.
Over our earthly sight
Shadows of woe must be;
Dreams fade with morning light.
Soldiers awake to fight—
Thou art from strife set free,
Dreamer of dreams, good-night.
Day breaketh, cruel, white,
Lovely the forms that flee;
Dreams fade with morning light.
Thine is the sure delight,
Sleep-visions still to see,
Dreamer of dreams, good-night.
Pity us from thy height,
Dawn-haunted slaves are we;
Dreams fade with morning light,
Dreamer of dreams, good-night.