L. Cranmer-Byng

“There is someone of whom I keep a-thinking;There is someone whom I visit in my dreams,Though a hundred hills stand sentinel between us,And the dark rage of a hundred sunless streams.For the same bright moon is kind to us,And the same untrammelled wind to us, Daring a hundred hills,Whispers the word that thrills.And the dust of my heart, laid bare,Shows the lilies that linger there.”

“I revel in flowers without let,An atom at random in space;My soul dwells in regions ethereal,And the world is my dreaming-place.”