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Edgar Guest - DreamingEdgar Guest - Dreaming
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JUST now I think I `d like to be At the river`s brink Beneath a tree, And stretched out flat On the cooling grass, Just gazing at The clouds that pass Like toy ships fair In a sea of blue; But I can`t be there, I have work to do. Or I `d like to be In an orchard gay, Where every tree Is in bloom today; Where the pink and white Of the blossoms sweet Blot out the fright Of the city street, Where there`s nothing to see But what is true; But that cannot be For I`ve work to do. Oh, I’d like to steal From my little den, From the great unreal And the haunts of men To the joyous truth Of the open air, To the honest youth That I left back there, To the boy I was In the days of old; But I can`t because I `in a slave to gold.
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