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THE DREAM OF LIFE
Is all existence then a dream,
Where midwife Fancy reigns supreme?
Are earth and ocean, sun and sky,
Creations of mere Phantasy?
Are all the things that seem but vain
Phantoms within a phantom brain?
Is Nature but a mirage bright
On ancient Chaos' mask of night?
Are all we see and all we feel
Alike phantasmal and unreal?
Where midwife Fancy reigns supreme?
Are earth and ocean, sun and sky,
Creations of mere Phantasy?
Are all the things that seem but vain
Phantoms within a phantom brain?
Is Nature but a mirage bright
On ancient Chaos' mask of night?
Are all we see and all we feel
Alike phantasmal and unreal?
Ah yes! existence is but dreaming,
However solid 'tis in seeming;
Dreams are our loves and hopes and fears,
Ambitions, triumphs, smiles and tears;
In waking dreams we pass the day,
And dreams the hours of darkness sway,
(Day-dreams or night-dreams—who can guess
Whether their truth is more or less?)
Perchance even Death is but a dream,
And fleshless skulls with visions teem.
The Gods we pray to and adore
However solid 'tis in seeming;
Dreams are our loves and hopes and fears,
Ambitions, triumphs, smiles and tears;
In waking dreams we pass the day,
And dreams the hours of darkness sway,
(Day-dreams or night-dreams—who can guess
Whether their truth is more or less?)
Perchance even Death is but a dream,
And fleshless skulls with visions teem.
The Gods we pray to and adore
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