I.

I think the power of dream
Is the power the spirit knows
Over the crushing of fate,
Over the grinding snows;
The strength of the Galahad-heart,
Stronger than barbed spears —
The soaring of Chatterton
Beyond the beggarly years.

II.

I think the power of dream
Is subtle and fine like song —
Like essence of harvest fields
When harvest days are long;
Gold and strong and rare,
Healing the dreamer's brain —
Filling his shadowed heart
With softened laughter again.

III.

I think the realm of dream
Is true as the realm of day;
The houses our souls have built
Border the dreamland way;
The love that we may not reach,
The heart that is bitter cold,
Soften, when night comes down
With white stars manifold.

IV.

When the sunset fires are out
And the ashes blown abroad,
I throw aside day's rags
And follow my dreamland god.
He leads me into a place
Where dreams are woven me;
Valour and love and joy
Like a wonderful tapestry.