We have our dreams; not happiness.
Great cities are upon the hill
To lighten all our dream, and still
We have no cities to possess
But cities built of bitterness.
We see gay fellows top to toe,
And girls in rainbow beauty bright —
’ Tis but of silly dreams I write,
For up and down the streets we know,
The scavengers and harlots go.
Give me a dozen men whose theme
Is honesty, and we will set
On high the banner of dreams... and yet
Thousands will pass us in a stream,
Nor care a penny what we dream.