Ella Wheeler Wilcox

“ And we will go sailing to those fair lands
That never an atlas shows.
On the North and the West they are bounded by rest,
On the South and the East, by dreams;
'Tis the country ideal, where nothing is real,
But everything only seems.
Just drop down the curtains of your dear eyes
Those eyes like a bright bluebell,
And we will sail out under starlit skies,
To the land where the fairies dwell.
Down the river of sleep our barque shall sweep,
Till it reaches that mystical Isle
Which no man hath seen, but where all have been,
And there we will pause awhile. ”