He saw her in his dreams; eyes closed
A maiden fair and beautiful
Her eyes as clear as the morning dew,
Skin so fair of the white sandy beach
Like the morning rays were her kisses soft
Cheeks as soft as the morning breeze,
Her hands, oh how he loved those hands
As graceful as the eagle's flight
Pure at heart, clear in mind
Was his maiden of dreams. In light
He woke, his eyelids lifted, in front was I
In all my dreary self
One look he gave me, his eye
Widened, "you are her, my dream
You are her my dear". I refuse; deny
"I have not that elegance, nor grace
Nor beauty of your girl desired
I am not her, your dream, your love"
Long he looked, longingly he looked and cried
Out loud " 'tis true, you are not her
You are not her my dear, my dream girl
You are not her, for you are better"
And there did the love blossom.