There is a land of Dream;
I have trodden its golden ways:
I have seen its amber light
From the heart of its sun-swept days;
I have seen its moonshine white
On its silent waters gleam -- 
Ah, the strange sweet lonely delight
Of the Valleys of Dream.
Ah, in that Land of Dream,
The mystical moon-white land,
Comes from what unknown sea -- 
Adream on what unknown strand -- 
A sound as of feet that flee,
As of multitudes that stream
From the shores of that shadowy sea
Through the Valleys of Dream.
It is dark in the Land of Dream.
There is silence in all the Land.
Are the dead all gathered there -- 
In havens, by no breath fanned?
This stir i' the dawn, this chill wan air -- 
This faint dim yellow of morning-gleam -- 
O is this sleep, or waking where
Lie hush'd the Valleys of Dream?