Maybe Land

Beyond where the marshes are dank and wide Is a ladder of red and gold, Where the sun has sunk in the shifting tide Of the clouds that the night elves mold. It leads U the portals of Maybe Land, Whose castles and groves we sec, On a vapor bank e' er tho mists expand, Tb darken the wind swept sea. 'Tíe there that or wishes are all made trne, Where f rowns may not mar the brow, Where storms nevcr mutter the whulo year through, Whero Then is transí ormed to .Now, And only the dreamer who idly hlts With a pencil and brnsh in hand Can travel the path to the raystic vaults And th treasnres of Maybe Land.