For each age is a dream that is dying. Or one that is coming to birth.

The past dream

We are the world makers,
We are the dreamers of dreams ...
We are the movers and shakers
Of the world for ever, it seams.

Dripping water hollows out a stone,
a ring is worn away by us...

As after a storm
The quiet water is a heaven
The surf floods over the reeds
So in ours hart
Our image is submerged.