I AM worn out with dreams;
A weather-worn, marble
Among the streams;
And all day long I
Upon this lady's
As though I had found in a bookA pictured beauty,pleased to have filled the
Or the discerning ears,
Delighted to be but wise,
For men improve with the years;
And yet, and yet,
Is this my dream, or the truth?
O would that we had
When I had my burning youth!
But I grow old among dreams,
A weather-worn, marble
Among the streams.
