“Ever drifting down the streamLingering in the golden gleamLife, what is it but a dream?”

“In a Wonderland they lie, Dreaming as the days go by, Dreaming as the summers die: Ever drifting down the stream- Lingering in the golden gleam- Life, what is it but a dream?”

“A BOAT beneath a sunny sky,Lingering onward dreamilyIn an evening of July —Children three that nestle near,Eager eye and willing ear,Pleased a simple tale to hear —Long has paled that sunny sky:Echoes fade and memories die:Autumn frosts have slain July.Still she haunts me, phantomwise,Alice moving under skiesNever seen by waking eyes.Children yet, the tale to hear,Eager eye and willing ear,Lovingly shall nestle near.In a Wonderland they lie,Dreaming as the days go by,Dreaming as the summers die:Ever drifting down the stream —Lingering in the golden gleam —Life, what is it but a dream?”

“Life, what is it but a dream? ”

“He was part of my dream, of course -- but then I was part of his dream, too.”

“All in the golden afternoon Full leisurely we glide; For both our oars, with little skill, By little arms are plied, While little hands make vain pretence Our wanderings to guide.”

“She tried to fancy what the flame of a candle is like after the candle is blown out, for she could not remember ever having seen such a thing.”