And, in parting from you now
Thus let me avow--
You are not wrong, who dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night or in a day,
In a vision, or in none
Is it therefore less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of an absurd tormented shore
And I hold within my hand
Grains of memories sands
Holding me in the deep
With foul folks and creeps
While I weep!
While I weep!
As I feel washed by waves
She pretends to wave
Or so it seems
Just a dream witbin a dream
Adapted from Edgar Alan Poe (1829)