For life is but a dream whose shapes return, some frequently, some seldom, some by night and some by day.
For life is but a dream whose shapes return, some frequently, some seldom, some by night and some by day.
A pleasing land of drowsyhed it was, Of dreams that wave before the half-shut eye; And of gay castles in the clouds that pass, Forever flushing round a summer sky . . .
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories