Song of the Fay
My life is a dream, a dream,In the moon’s cool beam;Some day I shall wake and desireA touch of the infinite fire.But now ‘tis enough that I beIn the light on the sea;Enough that I climb with the cloudWhen the winds of the morning are loud;Enough that I fade with my starWhen the doors of the East unbar.My life is a long delightIn the wonder of night.I quiet the heart of the roseWhen she quakes at the thought of the snows;I count the blown leaves of the Fall,And I comfort them all.Sometimes I awake with a startIn the song of a poet’s heart.Some day I shall know life whole—Shall suffer and find me a soul.
My life is a dream, a dream,In the moon’s cool beam;Some day I shall wake and desireA touch of the infinite fire.But now ‘tis enough that I beIn the light on the sea;Enough that I climb with the cloudWhen the winds of the morning are loud;Enough that I fade with my starWhen the doors of the East unbar.My life is a long delightIn the wonder of night.I quiet the heart of the roseWhen she quakes at the thought of the snows;I count the blown leaves of the Fall,And I comfort them all.Sometimes I awake with a startIn the song of a poet’s heart.Some day I shall know life whole—Shall suffer and find me a soul.
My life is a dream, a dream,In the moon’s cool beam;Some day I shall wake and desireA touch of the infinite fire.But now ‘tis enough that I beIn the light on the sea;Enough that I climb with the cloudWhen the winds of the morning are loud;Enough that I fade with my starWhen the doors of the East unbar.
My life is a dream, a dream,
In the moon’s cool beam;
Some day I shall wake and desire
A touch of the infinite fire.
But now ‘tis enough that I be
In the light on the sea;
Enough that I climb with the cloud
When the winds of the morning are loud;
Enough that I fade with my star
When the doors of the East unbar.
My life is a long delightIn the wonder of night.I quiet the heart of the roseWhen she quakes at the thought of the snows;I count the blown leaves of the Fall,And I comfort them all.Sometimes I awake with a startIn the song of a poet’s heart.Some day I shall know life whole—Shall suffer and find me a soul.
My life is a long delight
In the wonder of night.
I quiet the heart of the rose
When she quakes at the thought of the snows;
I count the blown leaves of the Fall,
And I comfort them all.
Sometimes I awake with a start
In the song of a poet’s heart.
Some day I shall know life whole—
Shall suffer and find me a soul.