Cometh thee in the night whilst I slumber
Creep deep into my conscience while I toss and turn and tumble
Dream, dream, cometh to me
Tha’rt what I need in my time of sleep
Thine beauty refreshment from reality

Cradle me with thine branches
Keep weaning me in thine nest
Let me sink deep, deep, in unreal’s enchantments
Let me forget about the rest

The rest, oh! the world is tragedy at its best!
As insufferable fools babble
The barely if any competent humans blither
Whilst we all silently wither
Like a castaway pile of leaves that sign for winter

Thus is the realm of non-fiction
Thus I need you, dream, as an escape
To face the music, ready or not, ’tis fate
But for a while, let me rest in this haven
A place for the weary and worn and tired
Dreams—God’s mercy and grace that unconsciousness creates

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