Would I but have dreams

 Would I but have dreams to spare
to wake this restless state
clouds that do not rain
nor suns which pale and fade
while moons glow red and
skylarks sing at night.
The daily round again
to spin its weary weft
tangling with the warp.

Could I but dream of such
wakened in this restlessness
feel rain clouds weep again
suns grown pale and fade
when moons again are grey,
their skulls to scowl, or
in youthful sickle, lie
on crescent backs to
watch the weaver with
his weft and warp weave
again a daily roundelay.