If I had but two little wings And were a little feathery bird, To you I'd fly, my dear! But thoughts like these are idle things And I stay here. But in my sleep to you I fly: I'm always with you in my sleep! The world is all one's own. But then one wakes, and where am I? All, all alone. Sleep stays not, though a monarch bids: So I love to wake ere break of day: For though my sleep be gone, Yet while 'tis dark, one shuts one's lids, And still dreams on. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DEATH OF GRANT by AMBROSE BIERCE THE FACE ON THE [BAR-ROOM] FLOOR by HUGH ANTOINE D'ARCY THE FAIRY THORN; AN ULSTER BALLAD by SAMUEL FERGUSON MEN AND BOYS by KARL THEODORE KORNER WRITTEN AT AN INN AT HENLEY by WILLIAM SHENSTONE MY BED IS A BOAT by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON THE VOYAGE OF MAELDUNE by ALFRED TENNYSON A POEM FOR THE SEFIROT AS WHEEL OF LIGHT by NAFTALI BACHARACH |