Ay, workman, make me a dream,
Ay, workman, make me a dream, A dream for my love. Cunningly weave sunlight, Breezes, and flowers. Let it be of the cloth of meadows. And -- good workman -- And let there be a man walking thereon.
Stephen Crane
Ay, workman, make me a dream, A dream for my love. Cunningly weave sunlight, Breezes, and flowers. Let it be of the cloth of meadows. And -- good workman -- And let there be a man walking thereon.
A speaker gently asks a workman to craft a dream, not for himself, but for the person he loves. He wants it woven from sunlight, breezes, and flowers, shaping an imagined landscape out of the "cloth of meadows" — soft, open, and alive.
Read the full summary