INSUBSTANTIAL PAGEANTS

                    When I am fast asleep, the curtain rises
                    On scenes my ever-active mind devises
                    In the unceasing theatre of my mind
                    Presenting spectacles of every kind.

                    Yet what a waste of my creative powers,
                    Laboring intensively for many hours,
                    That once I wake, these visions disappear—
                     What seemed so palpable, no longer here.

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