I swear, since seeing your face, the whole world is fraud and fantasy. The garden is bewildered as to what is leaf or blossom. The distracted birds can't distinguish the birdseed from the snare.
A house of love with no limits, a presence more beautiful than venus or the moon, a beauty whose image fills the mirror of the heart.
In the world of dreams, I have chosen my part, To sleep for a season and hear no word Of true love's truth or of light love's art, Only the song of a secret bird.
-- Algernon Charles Swinburne 1837 - 1909
(This is part of a longer poem called "A Ballad of Dreamland," but this is the part that speaks to me.)