If there were Dreams to Sell

If there were dreams to sell,
Do I not know full well
What I would buy?
Hope's dear delusive spell
Its happy tale to tell,
Joy's fleeting sigh.

I would be young again:
Youth's madding bliss and bane
I would recapture;
Though it were keen with pain,
All else seems void and vain
To that fine rapture.

I would be glad once more,
Slip through an open door
Into Life's glory;
Keep what I spent of yore,
Find what I lost before,
Hear an old story.

As it one day befell,
Breaking Death's frozen spell,
Love should draw nigh:
If there were dreams to sell,
Do I not know too well
What I would buy?

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