Dreams poems
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On the Great Atlantic Rainway
© Kenneth Koch
I set forth one misted white day of June
Beneath the great Atlantic rainway, and heard:
Bears at Raspberry Time
© Hayden Carruth
Fear. Three bears
are not fear, mother
and cubs come berrying
in our neighborhood
To the One Who is Reading Me
© Jorge Luis Borges
You are invulnerable. Didn’t they deliver
(those forces that control your destiny)
Love
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
All thoughts, all passions, all delights,
Whatever stirs this mortal frame,
All are but ministers of Love,
And feed his sacred flame.
To Joanna
© William Wordsworth
AMID the smoke of cities did you pass
The time of early youth; and there you learned,
In My Dreams
© Stevie Smith
In my dreams I am always saying goodbye and riding away,
Whither and why I know not nor do I care.
And the parting is sweet and the parting over is sweeter,
And sweetest of all is the night and the rushing air.
Morte d'Arthur
© Alfred Tennyson
To him replied the bold Sir Bedivere:
"It is not meet, Sir King, to leave thee thus,
Aidless, alone, and smitten thro' the helm.
A little thing may harm a wounded man.
Yet I thy hest will all perform at full,
Watch what I see, and lightly bring thee word."
The Sea-Change
© Ernest Christopher Dowson
Where river and ocean meet in a great tempestuous frown,
Beyond the bar, where on the dunes the white-capped rollers break;
Above, one windmill stands forlorn on the arid, grassy down:
I will set my sail on a stormy day and cross the bar and seek
That I have sought and never found, the exquisite one crown,
Which crowns one day with all its calm the passionate and the weak.
May-Bloom
© Henry Cuyler Bunner
Oh, for You that I never knew !
Now that the Spring is swelling,
And over the way is a whitening may,
In the yard of my neighbors dwelling.
Living Among the Dead
© William Matthews
To love the dead is easy.
They are final, perfect.
But to love a child
is sometimes to fail at love
while the dead look on
with their abstract sorrow.
Unfit
© Katharine Tynan
With younger men he takes his stand,
To the recruiting-sergeant nigh,
Sees others chosen: lifts a hand
In hopes to catch the unwilling eye,
While his mood turns to black despair
Heedless of those that grin and stare.
The Picture
© Madison Julius Cawein
Above her, pearl and rose the heavens lay:
Around her, flowers flattered earth with gold,
Or down the path in insolence held sway-
Like cavaliers who ride the king's highway-
Scarlet and buff, within a garden old.
The Suicide
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Last was the wealth I carried in life's pack-
Youth, health, ambition, hope and trust but Time
1959
© Gregory Corso
Uncomprising yearI see no meaning to life.
Though this abled self is here nonetheless,
either in trade gold or grammaticness,
I drop the wheelwrights simple principle
Why weave the garland? Why ring the bell?
The Pillar Towers of Ireland
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
The pillar towers of Ireland, how wondrously they stand
By the lakes and rushing rivers through the valleys of our land;
In mystic file, through the isle, they lift their heads sublime,
These gray old pillar temples, these conquerors of time!
