Reverie and Reality
Reverie plucks, with winsome grace,
The ethereal strings of my life harp.
But swift as a bow, Reality,
Forces her back with his sword,cold and sharp.
Oh, that I could linger in Reverie's hollow!
A jollier soul I would surely be.
I would fleet across her golden meadow,
Or sail in bliss on Fantasy's sea.
I would love to tarry with my Fancy,
Let her pluck strings on my harp until late,
But I hear the voice of Reality Stern,
Calling me back to my real, present state.
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