There is a fountain, hidden somewhere small
Where the wind is only for your hair
and other things are
not at all
In here, down there
Where your eyes need not look to find
A yellow rose on sunlit streets of
Stone, a worried, whethered lonesome
gray, that fades
Or whether it doesn\'t go away,
I cannot say
I sigh then, you know for I am here
So far from dreams that lead me down
Out of the cold, the dim, the rain
And dear,
How I would love to take you there
Some day