milky hair

Had I but two little wings,

And were a little feathery bird,

To you I'd fly, my dear,

But thoughts like these are idle things,

And I stay here.

But in my sleep to you I fly,

I'm always with you in my sleep,

The world is all one's own,

But then one wakes and where am I?

All, all alone.

Sleep stays not though a monarch bids,

So I love to wake at break of day,

For though my sleep be gone,

Yet while 'tis dark one shuts one's lids,

And so, dreams on.

Something Childish But Very Natural

by Katherine Mansfield in Something Childish But Very Natural