Must I leave you in the mountains,
Boy o' Dreams?
Must I leave you where the fountains
Toss the silver of their streams—
Where the trees are clothed in samite
And the little broken moon
Is a symbol and an answer
Like the reading of a rune?

May I take you to the city,
Boy o' Dreams—
Where your heart will break with pity
At the lethargy that seems
Only half alive to living,
Only enemy to mirth,
Where the dusty facts will blind you

To the fancies of the earth?
I must take you, but I'll keep you,
Boy o' Dreams,
Where no alien winds shall sweep you,
In a secret place that gleams
With the light of your own laughter—
Yours the vessel, yours the chart—
And we'll brave the storms together,
You—the captain of my heart!

More verses by Helen Hay Whitney