Oft do I think within myself of dreams still yet to be,
Of walking hand in hand with thee aside a glistening sea,
Of moonbeams streaming from the sky, alighting on the waves,
They envy us our love my love, yet shower us with praise.
Their dancing and their dalliance explode upon the air
How fanciful, how brilliant do their contrails linger there.
They linger in the memory and ask no more of me
Your image their reflections are, upon a glistening sea.
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