Dreamers

There's a poet tombed in you, Man of blood and iron! There's a dreamer dead and buried Deep beneath your cynic frown, Deep beneath your toil!

And deep beneath my music, There's a strong man stirs in me; There's a ghost of blood and granite Coffined in this madness Carpentered of Song!

You live your day and drain it; I weave my dream and lose it; But the red blood lost in me awakens still at times, At all your city's sky-line, At all your roaring market-place, At all its hum of power-- And the poet dead within you stirs Still at the plaintive note or two Of a dreamer's plaintive song!