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These past few months have made it seem
My dream of you will stay a dream.
But still I’ll dream both night and day,
And in my lonely mind you’ll stay,
My heart’s desire, desire’s prey.

Still in this waking dream of sleep
How whimsically my fancies creep,
How rich the plots—
How loose the knots—
Which bind reality to me.

--Basil Chalmondeley

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