Saturday, May 9, 2009

The Dreamer


The Dreamer

Over the crest of the Hill of Sleep,
Over the plain where the mists lie deep,
Into a country of wondrous things,
Enter we dreaming, and know we're kings.

Murmur or roar as it may, the stream
Laughs to the youngster who dreams his dream.
Leave him alone till his fool's heart breaks;
Dreams all are real till the dreamer wakes!

- Dorothea Mackellar

1 comment:

joanne26 said...

I love Dorothea McKellar, so sad she is only ever identified with "I love a sunburnt country....." she wrote some really beautiful prose.
Thanks for sharing.