Dreamer, say, will you dream for me br A wild sweet dream of a foreign land, br Whose border sips of a foaming sea br With lips of coral and silver sand; br Where warm winds loll on the shady deeps, br Or lave themselves in the tearful mist br The great wild wave of the breaker weeps br O'er crags of opal and amethyst? br br Dreamer, say, will you dream a dream br Of tropic shades in the lands of shine, br Where the lily leans o'er an amber stream br That flows like a rill of wasted wine,-- br Where the palm-trees, lifting their shields of green, br Parry the shafts of the Indian sun br Whose splintering vengeance falls between br The reeds below where the waters run? br br Dreamer, say, will you dream of love br That lives in a land of sweet perfume, br Where the stars drip down from the skies above br In molten spatters of bud and bloom? br Where never the weary eyes are wet, br And never a sob in the balmy air, br And only the laugh of the paroquet br Breaks the sleep of the silence there?br br James Whitcomb Rileybr br