Combing

All for the sake of lovely dreams,

I search the World, and everywhere;

I comb the hours for golden thoughts,

As a mermaid combs her hair.

And as she sometimes combs out gold,

That shines like shreds of silk;

That makes the sand she sings on rich,

As cream enriches milk;

And sometimes combs out mud or weeds,

All gathered from miles afloat-

So I, who find a dream at times,

Am sometimes left without a thought.