Robert Laurence Binyon

1869-1943 / England

Dream—come—true - P

Within the eyes of Dream--Come--True
Shine the old dreams of my youth.
Ere they faded, ere they grew
Distant, they were born anew
In her truth.
Within the heart of Dream--Come--True
Lies my life, a folded bud.
All that is to hope and do,
Joy and triumph, toil and rue,
Skies of thunder, skies of blue,
Pulse in pulses of her blood.
O may the fountain leap in flood,
The young shoot branch in leafy wood,
Blest in promise through and through
By the dear thoughts of Dream--Come--True.
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