At last I meet you face to face, the Ideal of my dream,
I’ve waited to behold you, dear,
For years and years ‘twould seem;
And now you come to live, to breathe,
From out the mystic night,
My burning heart, my very soul,
Cries out in all it’s might:
I love you, I love you, I love you,
You are the Ideal of my dreams,
I always knew, ‘twould be someone like you,
I’ve loved you forever it seems.
For years in my mind’s fondest fancy
A picture of your face I drew,
And I knew you somehow, when I met you just now,
You are the Ideal of my dreams.
Somehow I feel you can’t be real, you vanish like the mist,
Before I hold you in my arms,
Before your lips I’ve kissed,
But no, you speak, you really live,
Warm blood thro’ your veins flows,
Come nestle to my throbbing breast,
I want the world to know:
Ingraham, Herbert, "You Are the Ideal of My Dreams" (1910). Historic Sheet Music Collection. 1746.
The views expressed in this paper are solely those of the author.