Dreams poems
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The Barrel-Organ
© Alfred Noyes
Go down to Kew in lilac-time, in lilac-time, in lilac-time.
Go down to Kew in lilac-time (it isn’t far from London!),
And you shall wander hand in hand with love in summer’s wonderland.
Go down to Kew in lilac-time (it isn’t far from London!).
Conclusion
© Madison Julius Cawein
The songs Love sang to us are dead:
Yet shall he sing to us again,
When the dull days are wrapped in lead,
And the red woodland drips with rain.
Home 1
© Edward Thomas
Not the end: but there's nothing more.
Sweet Summer and Winter rude
I have loved, and friendship and love,
The crowd and solitude:
Whistle-Fantasy
© Margaret Widdemer
OUT in the dark the train passes
And the whistle calls to the child,
A Sequence of Sonnets on the Death of Robert Browning
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
The works of words whose life seems lightning wrought,
And moulded of unconquerable thought,
And quickened with imperishable flame,
Stand fast and shine and smile, assured that nought
May fade of all their myriad-moulded fame,
Nor England's memory clasp not Browning's name.
Sacred And Profane Love
© Alfred Austin
Profane Love speaks
``I am the Goddess mortals call Profane,
Yet worship me as though I were divine;
Over their lives, unrecognised, I reign,
For all their thoughts are mine.
Yom Kippur 1984
© Adrienne Rich
I drew solitude over me, on the long shore.
—Robinson Jeffers, “Prelude”
For whoever does not afflict his soul through this day, shall be
cut off from his people.
Love's Nocturn
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Master of the murmuring courts
Where the shapes of sleep convene!—
Sonnet LXXVII. To The Insect Of The Gossamer
© Charlotte Turner Smith
SMALL, viewless aeronaut, that by the line
Of Gossamer suspended, in mid air
Float'st on a sun beam--Living atom, where
Ends thy breeze-guided voyage;--with what design,
O-Jazz-O War Memoir: Jazz, Don’t Listen To It At Your Own Risk
© Bob Kaufman
In the beginning, in the wet
Warm dark place,
The Test of Fantasy
© Joanne Kyger
It unfolds and ripples like a banner, downward. All the stories
come folding out. The smells and flowers begin to come back, as
the tapestry is brightly colored and brocaded. Rabbits and violets.
Bird Parliament (translation of)
© Edward Fitzgerald
And first, with Heart so full as from his Eyes
Ran weeping, up rose Tajidar the Wise;
The mystic Mark upon whose Bosom show'd
That He alone of all the Birds THE ROAD
Had travell'd: and the Crown upon his Head
Had reach'd the Goal; and He stood forth and said:
In Memoriam A. H. H.: 55
© Alfred Tennyson
I falter where I firmly trod,
And falling with my weight of cares
Upon the great world's altar-stairs
That slope thro' darkness up to God,
Winter Break
© Archibald Lampman
All day between high-curded clouds the sun
Shone down like summer on the steaming planks.
