Deep in the forest where I lay,
in my Night's-now-my-Day;
the reaper's calling pass my ever dreams.
I dream though I am awake,
dreaming of this once siren sake.
But what of a dream:
A trifle-in our own esteem-
a journey in our visions pass,
a trial in its unobtrusive mass.
I lie here in my infinite wonder,
lost in tranquility asunder.
Woe unto me a new misgiving;
a dream now worth living.