Foliage: Various Poems

THE LONELY DREAMER

     He lives his lonely life, and when he dies
     A thousand hearts maybe will utter sighs;
     Because they liked his songs, and now their bird
     Sleeps with his head beneath his wing, unheard.

     But what kind hand will tend his grave, and bring
     Those blossoms there, of which he used to sing?
     Who'll kiss his mound, and wish the time would come
     To lie with him inside that silent tomb?

     And who'll forget the dreamer's skill, and shed
     A tear because a loving heart is dead?

     And let his death bring tears in no one's eyes.