Where the waves of burning cloud are rolled On the further shore of the sunset sea, In a land of wonder that none behold, There blooms a rose on the Dreamland Tree That stands in the Garden of Mystery Where the River of Slumber softly flows; And whenever a dream has come to be, A petal falls from the Dreamland Rose. In the heart of the tree, on a branch of gold, A silvern bird sings endlessly A mystic song that is ages old, A mournful song in a minor key, Full of the glamour of faery; And whenever a dreamer's ears unclose To the sound of that distant melody, A petal falls from the Dreamland Rose. Dreams and visions in hosts untold Throng around on the moonlit lea: Dreams of age that are calm and cold, Dreams of youth that are fair and free -- Dark with a lone heart's agony, Bright with a hope that no one knows -- And whenever a dream and a dream agree, A petal falls from the Dreamland Rose. ENVOI Princess, you gaze in a reverie Where the drowsy firelight redly glows; Slowly you raise your eyes to me.... A petal falls from the Dreamland Rose. |