Dreams poems
/ page 113 of 232 /The Spirit Of Poetry
© George Essex Evans
She is the flower-maid of the dreaming noon,
The goddess of the temple of the night;
Where the berg-turrets gleam beneath the moon
She builds Her throne of white.
The Flight of the Goddess
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
A man should live in a garret aloof,
And have few friends, and go poorly clad,
With an old hat stopping the chink in the roof,
To keep the Goddess constant and glad.
Poppy And Mandragora
© Madison Julius Cawein
Let us go far from here!
Here there is sadness in the early year:
315. SongOut over the Forth
© Robert Burns
OUT over the Forth, I look to the North;
But what is the north and its Highlands to me?
The south nor the east gie ease to my breast,
The far foreign land, or the wide rolling sea.
A Poem Beginning With A Line From Pindar
© Robert Duncan
But the eyes in Goyas painting are soft,
diffuse with rapture absorb the flame.
Their bodies yield out of strength.
Waves of visual pleasure
wrap them in a sorrow previous to their impatience.
The House Of Dust: Part 03: 09:
© Conrad Aiken
We sit together and talk, or smoke in silence.
You say (but use no words) 'this night is passing
As other nights when we are dead will pass . . .'
Perhaps I misconstrue you: you mean only,
'How deathly pale my face looks in that glass . . .'
Two Christmas Eves
© Edith Nesbit
Don't go to sleep; you mustn't sleep
Here on the frozen floor! Yes, creep
Closer to me. Oh, if I knew
What is this something left to do!
The Ballad of the White Horse
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Of great limbs gone to chaos,
A great face turned to night-
Why bend above a shapeless shroud
Seeking in such archaic cloud
Sight of strong lords and light?
41. Epistle to John Rankine
© Robert Burns
It pits me aye as mads a hare;
So I can rhyme nor write nae mair;
But pennyworths again is fair,
When times expedient:
Meanwhile I am, respected Sir,
Your most obedient.
The Death Of Schiller
© William Cullen Bryant
'Tis said, when Schiller's death drew nigh,
The wish possessed his mighty mind,
To wander forth wherever lie
The homes and haunts of human-kind.
Shyama -- English Translation
© Rabindranath Tagore
Yet after all these I cannot forget the pain
I couldnt know her more!
One can hardly be nearest to what is beautiful
It ever remains far
When nearer it urges one ever
To know it ever more.
Book Fifth-Books
© William Wordsworth
There was a Boy: ye knew him well, ye cliffs
And islands of Winander!--many a time
At evening, when the earliest stars began
To move along the edges of the hills,
Rising or setting, would he stand alone
Beneath the trees or by the glimmering lake,
Sonnet: Ypres
© Robert Laurence Binyon
She was a city of patience; of proud name,
Dimmed by neglecting Time; of beauty and loss;
Of acquiescence in the creeping moss.
But on a sudden fierce destruction came
The Dreamer
© Dorothea Mackellar
Over the crest of the Hill of Sleep,
Over the plain where the mists lie deep,
Into a country of wondrous things,
Enter we dreaming, and know we're kings.
Ariel
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
A VOICE like the murmur of doves,
Soft lightning from eyes of blue;
On her cheek a flush like love's
First delicate, rosebud hue;
468. SongOn the Seas and far away
© Robert Burns
Chorus.On the seas and far away,
On stormy seas and far away;
Nightly dreams and thoughts by day,
Are aye with him thats far away.
IX. O Poverty! though from thy haggard eye...
© William Lisle Bowles
O POVERTY! though from thy haggard eye,
Thy cheerless mein, of every charm bereft,
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: VIII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
It was a booth no larger than the rest,
No loftier fashioned and no more sublime,
As poor a shrine as ever youth possessed
In which to worship truth revealed in time.