Until thou liest rapt upon my breast.
The wind may bring its perfume from the south,
Is it so sweet as breath from my love's mouth?
Oh, naught that surely is, and naught that seems
May turn me from the lady of my dreams.
DREAM SONG II
Pray, what can dreams avail
To make love or to mar?
The child within the cradle rail
Lies dreaming of the star.