We are the Music Makers, The Dreamers of Dreams

We Are the Music-Makers

by Arthur William Edgar O'shaughnessy
We are the music-makers,
And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lone sea-breakers,
And sitting by desolate streams.
World-losers and world-forsakers,
Upon whom the pale moon gleams;
Yet we are the movers and shakers,
Of the world forever, it seems.

With wonderful deathless ditties,
We build up the world's great cities,
And out of a fabulous story
We fashion an empire's glory:
One man with a dream, at pleasure,
Shall go forth and conquer a crown;
And three with a new song's measure
Can trample an empire down.

We, in the ages lying
In the buried past of earth,
Built Nineveh with our sighing,
and Babel itself with our mirth;
​And overthrow them with prophesying
To the old of the new world's worth;

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