I sleep, in sleep perchance to dream a dream

to see, to live, that which I cannot live.

Sometimes of ghosts and thrilling mysteries,

to wake in racing, violent thumping beats.

Sometimes of buildings, large, uncanny, real,

to wake with wonder, bewildered and confused.

Sometimes of faces, strange and odd and queer,

to wake, and, disoriented, shake my head.

Sometimes of you and I in love and then

I wake, to smile, to sigh and then to cry.

I sleep, in sleep perchance to dream a dream

to see, to live a love that cannot be.