Dreams poems
/ page 106 of 232 /The children of the Mist
© Frank Dalby Davison
Through the valleys, softly creeping
Mid the tree-tops, tempest-tossed,
Youth
© Edgar Albert Guest
If I had youth I'd bid the world to try me;
I'd answer every challenge to my will.
The Dreamer Of Dreams
© Conrad Aiken
The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light.
The trees grow dark: the shadows lean to the east:
And lights wink out through the windows, one by one.
A clamor of frosty sirens mourns at the night.
Pale slate-grey clouds whirl up from the sunken sun.
To Bayard Taylor Beyond Us
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
AS here within I watch the fervid coals,
While the chill heavens without shine wanly white,
I wonder, friend! in what rare realm of souls,
You hail the uprising Christmas-tide to-night!
Foresight And Patience
© George Meredith
Sprung of the father blood, the mother brain,
Are they who point our pathway and sustain.
They rarely meet; one soars, one walks retired.
When they do meet, it is our earth inspired.
The Miller's Maid
© Robert Bloomfield
Near the high road upon a winding stream
An honest Miller rose to Wealth and Fame:
The noblest Virtues cheer'd his lengthen'd days,
And all the Country echo'd with his praise:
His Wife, the Doctress of the neighb'ring Poor,
Drew constant pray'rs and blessings round his door.
Saint Germain-En-Laye
© Ernest Christopher Dowson
Through the green boughs I hardly saw thy face,
They twined so close: the sun was in mine eyes;
And now the sullen trees in sombre lace
Stand bare beneath the sinister, sad skies.
Sunsets
© Arthur Symons
And as I wake and wander always these are woven
With my most feverish dreams, the heat of midnight cloven
With feet of fire, hell's lightning and hell's thunder
That mix and mingle in a perilous confusion;
And over and above me, mists of disillusion,
That, as the heart of darkness opens, are rent asunder.
Botany-Bay Flowers
© Barron Field
GOD of this Planet! for the name best fits
The purblind view, which men of this "dim spot"
Human Life
© Samuel Rogers
An hour like this is worth a thousand passed
In pomp or ease - 'Tis present to the last!
Years glide away untold - 'Tis still the same!
As fresh, as fair as on the day it came!
Blithe Dreams Arise To Greet Us
© William Ernest Henley
Blithe dreams arise to greet us,
And life feels clean and new,
Fulfilment
© James Brunton Stephens
We cried, " How long ! " We sighed, " Not yet; "
And still with faces dawnward set
" Prepare the way," said each to each,
Written In A Seat At Stoke Park, Near The Vicararage-House, Then Inhabited By The Author, And Comman
© Henry James Pye
Not with more joy from the loud tempest's roar,
The dangerous billow, and more dangerous shore,
The House Of Dust: Part 01: 02:
© Conrad Aiken
One, from his high bright window, looking down,
Peers like a dreamer over the rain-bright town,
And thinks its towers are like a dream.
The western windows flame in the sun's last flare,
Pale roofs begin to gleam.
Altiora Peto
© George Essex Evans
To each there came the passion and the fire,
The breadth of vision and the sudden light,
And for a moment on an earthly lyre
Quivered a tremor of the Infinite;
Yet to each poet of that deep-browed throng
Twas but the shadow of Immortal Song.
The Frontier-Land
© Roderic Quinn
YOU of the past, are you present?
Draw nearer! my heart is sore.
Was yours the fall of the foot in the hall?
Was yours the face at the door?
Dawn Wind
© Lola Ridge
I see you
Shaking that flower at me with soft invitation
And frisking away,
Deliciously rumpling the grass…