Then I Perceived, What I Had Never

How Beautiful Are Dreams! In Dreams The Dead May Live, Even The Long Dead And The Very Silent.

Then I Perceived, What I Had Never Thought, That All These Staring Houses Were Not Alike, But Different One From Another, Because They Held Different Dreams.

And Little He Knew Of The Things That Ink May Do, How It Can Mark A Dead Man's Thought For The Wonder Of Later Years, And Tell Of Happening That Are Gone Clean Away, And Be A Voice For Us Out Of The Dark Of Time, And Save Many A Fragile Thing From The Pounding Of Heavy Ages; Or Carry To Us, Over The Rolling Centuries, Even A Song From Lips Long Dead On Forgotten Hills.

Everyone's Future Is, In Reality, Uncertain And Full Of Unknown Treasures From Which All May Draw Unguessed Prizes.

Bricks Without Straw Are More Easily Made Than Imagination Without Memories.