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Wings by Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772 – 1834)

If I had but two little wings
And were a little feathery bird,
To you I’d fly, my dear!
But thoughts like these are idle things
And I stay here.

But in my sleep to you I fly:
I’m always with you in my sleep!
The world is all one’s own.
And then one wakes, and where am I?
All, all alone.

Painting by Robert Reid (1862 – 1929)