Something Childish, but Very Natural

If I had but two little wings,And were a little feathery bird,To you I'd fly, my dear!But thoughts like these are idle things,And I stay here.

But in my sleep to you I fly:I'm always with you in my sleep;The world is all one's own.But then one wakes, and where am I?All, all alone.

Sleep stays not, though a monarch bids:So I love to wake ere break of day:For though my sleep be gone,Yet, while 'tis dark, one shuts one's lids,And still dreams on.