To John Russell Hayes br br KNOW a household made of pure delight, br That sits within a garden of quietness: br A welcomed visitor by day or night, br I win a refuge from life's storm and stress. br Ah, here no footfalls cease and then resume, br Nor sounds of closing doors nor creaking beams; br And throned within her favorite gold room br Amid the roses' perfume and the gloom, br I greet my smiling hostess, Madame of Dreams. br br I know not how I won so dear a friend, br I know not of her family or her race; br Her voice is a sweet music without end br Unfolding the wistful beauty of her face. br She has known all the world s great tragedies --- br Was at the ruins of Troy and Actium; br And her deep heart holds many memories br That are the ghosts of countless aching sighs br Dead lovers uttered ere their lips grew dumb. br br She seems so old from her experience --- br With Egypt's queen she sailed along the Nile --- br She heard Demosthenes great eloquence --- br Saw Camelot melt 'neath Arthur s golden smile. br But Time has dealt with her as with the sea, br Whereon it leaves not any scars nor seams; br And like a bud that breaks at last to be br A faultless rose June s dews and suns decree --- br Beauty and Youth have crowned Madame of br Dreams.