Keep thou thy dreams — though joy should pass thee by;
Hold to the rainbow beauty of thy thought;
It is for dreams that men will oft-times die,—
And count the passing pain of death as nought.
Keep thou thy dreams, though faith should faint and fail,
And time should loose thy fingers from the creeds;
The vision of the Christ will still avail,
To lead thee on to truth and tender deeds.
Keep thou thy dreams, through all the winter's cold;
When weeds are withered, and the garden grey,
Dream thou of roses with their hearts of gold;—
Beckon to summers that are on their way!
Keep thou thy dreams;— the tissue of all wings
Is woven first of them; from dreams are made
The precious and imperishable things,
Whose loveliness lives on, and does not fade.