In dreams, I’d often find
A girl who naught could ever be
Burning bright within my mind
And waking think I’ll never see
And then, one day, before me stands
The face, the form, the life beneath
Which only in the Dreaming Lands
Did ever before I have belief
I learn her name, her age, her place
And, so knowing, become ever more bewitched
And, now, cannot let go of any chance
That dreams and life might yet be switched
So, like Old Biltis in her day,
These dreams I would not ever put away.
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