Classic Poem

Who sees a vision bright and bold
Hath found a treasure of pure gold;
For say it vanisheth
When Morning banisheth
Sleep, mother of all dreams,
Before his comely beams,
Thou didst not wis, before sleep showed to thee,
That things so nobly fair might ever be;
But now that thou dost know,
Waking shall make it so;
So here is treasure hid
Beneath a closed eyelid.

Who dreams a dream both sweet and bright
Hath found true nectar of delight;
For say with pain and smart
It fadeth out apart,
Thy gallèd heart did never,
In waking sad endeavour,
Bend back the veil of murky tapestry
And show such things of light and joy to thee;
But now that thou dost know,
Hope builds her skyward bow;
There cannot be a shade
But for it form is made.

Who sees a vision foul and dim
Hath seen the naked shade of sin;
And say its grim masque closeth
When Morn himself discloseth,
Thy soul hath seen the colour,
The anguish and the dolor,
Of her whom thou hast haply only seen
In fair attire and feasted as a queen;
But now thou dost her know,
She may not fool thee so;
Sin may not ever be
Again a queen to thee.