I am worn out with dreams
A weather-worn, marble triton
Among the steams And all day long
I look Upon this lady�s beauty
As though I had found it in a book
A pictured beauty Pleased to have
filled the eyes Or the discerning ears
Delighting to be but wise For men improve
With the years And yet and yet Is this my
dream, or the trust Oh would that we had met
When I had my burning youth But I grow old
Among dreams A weather-worn, marble triton
Among the steams.