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A Dream Within a Dream

For my own part

I have never had a thought

Which I could not set down in words

With even more distinctness

Than that with which I conceived it

There is however a class of fancies

Of exquisite delicacy, which are not thoughts

And to which as yet I have found it

Absolutely impossible to adapt to language

These fancies arise in the soul

Alas how rarely, only at epochs

Of most intense tranquility

When the bodily and mental

Health are in perfection

And at those weird points of time

Where the confines of the waking world

Blend with the world of dreams

And so I captured this fancy

Where all that we see or seem

Is but a dream within a dream

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