In a dream you taught me the piano;
So I struck a note; no, two!
The first was on a low key,
The next was C, by you!

You said, “That’s not harmonic,”
And I said, “Yes, that’s true,”
And so I stretched my arm, a “bit,”
The other side of you.

I couldn’t see the key there,
It might be F or G,
But it was joy to be there
To make love’s melody.

Then, Yipes! your heavy scorning
Of uncontrollable touch!
I was better in the morning,
Though Chopin says, “Not much!”

But oh, to sit beside you,
Or back of you, in a chair,
And hear your fingers glide–through–
Dream’s melodies so rare.