The House Of Dreams

by Sara Teasdale

　　

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I built a little House of Dreams, And fenced it all about, But still I heard the Wind of Truth That roared without. I laid a fire of Memories And sat before the glow, But through the chinks and round the door The wind would blow. I left the House, for all the night I heard the Wind of Truth; I followed where it seemed to lead Through all my youth. But when I sought the House of Dreams, To creep within and die, The Wind of Truth had leveled it, And passed it by.

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