Clark Ashton Smith

Fools of the world, who dream that dreams are true—

Believing still that life is what it seems,

And trustful that the world is more than dreams—

Free for a little, I have laughed at you:

Knowing all this is a ghostly gossamer

In some eternal room of darkness spun;

A laughter of forgotten gods that were,

Echoing still in waste oblivion.

But once again, as others, I have lent

myself to earthly ways and earthly walls:

Illusion of illusion, fantasy

Of doubtful phantoms, nevermore to be

When slumber on the last delirium falls

And lulls the tossing shadows turbulent.

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