The Fishing of a Dream As I lay dreaming on the sea, A voice from the water singing hearkened me. Oh, see the fishes come swimming through, Their scales like gems, their eyes like dew.
With silver nets and golden hooks, I chased them down the deep streams and brooks, But when I reached the sparkling sheen, The waters laughed and spoke, not seen.
‘The fishes swim through shadows bright, Where the dreams of men meet the morning light.’
- William Butler Yeats