The Time of Dreams

The Time of Dreams written by William Henry Davies

From "A Poet's Calendar", 1927

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What sweet, what happy days had I,
When dreams made Time Eternity!
Before I knew this body's breath
Could not take life in without death.
As fresh as any field of grass
This breath of life was, then; it was
An orchard with more fruit than leaf,
And every owl enjoyed his grief.
No Winter's morn, when I went forth,
Could force on me a sunless North;
When I would watch the bees for hours
Clinging to their love-bitten flowers;
And, dreaming to the songs of birds,
Would still delay my deeds and words;
And every common day could place
A shining Sunday in my face.
O for my greater days to come,
When I shall travel far from home!
On seas that have no shade in sight,
Into the woods that have no light;
Over the mountains' heads so tall,
Cut by the clouds to pieces small;
Across wide plains that give my eye
No house or tree to measure them by.
And all the wonders I shall see
In some old city new to me;
Haunting the ships and docks, and then
To hear the strange, sea-faring men
That with their broken English prove
More lands than one to roam and love.
What sweet, what happy days had I -
When dreams made Time Eternity!

This work is in the public domain in countries where the copyright term is the author's life plus 70 years or less.