Through The Dreams That Are Gone

Through the dreams that are gone,
In the light of none to-night;
There is swift in each their aileron,
Through the darkening of light.
War and wounds of sorrel dreams,
Blooming fields that grow on near;
Everything into the rustle seems,
When again the daybreaks appear.

The fantasies ruling within reach,
A single task like a prisoner's diet;
Accurate by far lonely to teach,
Logic between a try to be quiet.
Grows of walls of blank thoughts,
Within bared windows of no view;
Emancipated reason of a bowknot,
Without more unanswerable argue.

Like the roses and the dark daisies,
Poet's spring is drawing here on;
In close keep of sleeping coveys,
Till each the demurrage's fully done.
Transformed delights once more,
Coming through the summer's ray;
Opening hue to the colorful door,
In the clearings of a beautiful day.