Dreams

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What dreams we have and how they fly
Like rosy clouds across the sky;
  Of wealth, of fame, of sure success,
  Of love that comes to cheer and bless;
And how they wither, how they fade,
The waning wealth, the jilting jade -
  The fame that for a moment gleams,
  Then flies forever, -dreams, ah -dreams!

O burning doubt and long regret
O tears with which our eyes are wet,
  Heart-throbs, heart-aches, the glut of pain,
  The somber cloud, the bitter rain,
You were not of those dreams - ah! well,
Your full fruition who can tell?
  Wealth, fame, and love, ah! love that beams
  Upon our souls, all dreams - ah! dreams.

© Paul Laurence Dunbar