The spreading dawn upon your sleeping eyes,
Caressing, bringing movement to your form,
Dispels the fascinations and the lies
Of dreams. The coming daylight finds you warm
And safe. You feel the fading of a dream
Which held you rapt, enthralled in its device.
But in the light of day its glamours seem
To flee, and lose their power to entice.
What is a dream but lies? What is a thought
But guile? What is a fantasy but smoke?
All dreams are false, we wake and they are not
The truth, not real. It faded as you woke.
For nothing in your dreams can be as true
As this: Today my thoughts will turn to you.