Perhaps the distinctness of my recollection is due to my making it the subject of a poem, which I still possess.

It seemed as if I were lying in an endless field of poppies, with the notes of music echoing around me.

Never did I have a more blissful vision.
The awakening was all the more terrible.

Only a few hours could have passed since I went to rest.

Dawn was just appearing, and I rang for the old maid-servant who waited on me.