Classic Poem

I thieved a skein of gossamer thread
And wove me a web of moonbeam wings,
That I might hover over your head
And dare to whisper into your dream
The lovely, disastrous, scarce-thought things
That even my eyes had left unsaid.

Under the veil of your slumbering eyes
I caught the heart of your dream by surprise.
I uncovered your dream; and found there hidden,—
Sleeping cherished though waking forbidden,—
All the disastrous, scarce-thought things,
The wonderful things I had left unsaid.