He made but dreams; for this they laughed him down, Those praters of Efficiency, who wrought The more substantial things (or thus they thought) That merited a place of sure renown. He never made a shoe, a suit, a gown; He paid no taxes on a house and lot; He never sold a thing and rarely bought; He was the Non-Producer of the town. He made but dreams; such inefficient things! And they who bought and sold and toiled and played Could never guess the joke Eternity Had played on them; for still the Dreamer sings Long centuries since his deriders paid God's tax of death on earth-idolatry. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DRIFTERS: BELLA COOLA TO WILLIAMS LAKE by KAREN SWENSON FUCHSIA HEDGES IN CONNACHT by PADRAIC COLUM ODES I, 5 by QUINTUS HORATIUS FLACCUS NO SONGS IN WINTER by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH AMONG THE HEATHER by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM A TOMB BY THE SEA by ASCLEPIADES OF SAMOS |