What follows is quite likely my favourite poem. I think I'd like it (or the shortened version of it) on my tombstone. Ode By Arthur William Edgar O'Shaughnessy (1844–1881) This poem comes from the collection Music and Moonlight (1874). It is often quoted, but rarely provided in its entirety: often even where it is assumed to be complete, only the first three stanzas are actually given. 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, On whom the pale moon gleams: Yet we are the movers and shakers Of the world for ever, 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 a kingdom down. We, in the ages lying In