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The Dream of the Children by George William Russell
THE CHILDREN awoke in their dreaming While earth lay dewy and still: They followed the rill in its gleaming To the heart-light of the hill.
Its sounds and sights were forsaking The world as they faded in sleep, When they heard a music breaking Out from the heart-light deep.
It ran where the rill in its flowing Under the star-light gay, With wonderful colour was glowing Like the bubbles they blew in their play.
From the misty mountain under Shot gleams of an opal star; Its pathways of rainbow wonder Rayed to their feet from afar.
From their feet as they strayed in the meadow It led through caverned aisles, Filled with purple and green light and shadow For mystic miles on miles.
The children were glad: it was lonely To play on the hillside by day. “But now,” they said, “we have only To go where the good people stray.”
For all the hillside was haunted By the faery folk come again; And down in the heart-light enchanted Were opal-coloured men.
They moved like kings unattended Without a squire or dame, But they wore tiaras splendid With feathers of starlight flame.
They laughed at the children over And called them into the heart. “Come down here, each sleepless rover; We will show you some of our art.”
And down through the cool of the mountain The children sank at the call, And stood in a blazing fountain And never a mountain at all.
The lights were coming and going In many a shining strand, For the opal fire-kings were blowing The darkness out of the land.
This golden breath was a madness To set a poet on fire; And this was a cure for sadness, And that the ease of desire.
They said as dawn glimmered hoary, “We will show yourselves for an hour.” And the children were changed to a glory By the beautiful magic of power.
The fire-kings smiled on their faces And called them by olden names, Till they towered like the starry races All plumed with the twilight flames.
They talked for a while together How the toil of ages oppressed, And of how they best could weather The ship of the world to its rest.
The dawn in the room was straying: The children began to blink, When they heard a far voice saying “You can grow like that if you think.”
The sun came in yellow and gay light: They tumbled out of the cot: And half of the dream went with daylight And half was never forgot.
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