Dreams poems
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Among The Timothy
© Archibald Lampman
Long hours ago, while yet the morn was blithe,
Nor sharp athirst had drunk the beaded dew,
San Biagio, at Montepulciano
© Raymond Carver
Columns, arches, vaults: how he knew
The ways you promise what you lack;
And that your bodies, like your souls,
Always slip from our grasping hands.
After Reading Trollope's History Of Florence
© Eugene Field
My books are on their shelves again
And clouds lie low with mist and rain.
Afar the Arno murmurs low
The tale of fields of melting snow.
List to the bells of times agone
The while I wait me for the dawn.
Perhaps the World Ends Here
© Joy Harjo
The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.
The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.
Convict Once - Part First.
© James Brunton Stephens
I.
FREE again! Free again! eastward and westward, before me, behind me,
Wide lies Australia! and free are my feet, as my soul is, to roam!
Oh joy unwonted of space undetermined! No limit assigned me!
Freedom conditioned by nought save the need and desire of a home!
Song of Myself
© Walt Whitman
Creeds and schools in abeyance,
Retiring back a while sufficed at what they are, but never forgotten,
I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard,
Nature without check with original energy.
Spring In The North
© Henry Van Dyke
Ah, think not early love alone is strong;
He loveth best whose heart has learned to wait:
Dear messenger of Spring that tarried long,
You're doubly dear because you come so late.
Moon Fairies
© Madison Julius Cawein
THE moon, a circle of gold,
O'er the crowded housetops rolled,
And peeped in an attic, where,
'Mid sordid things and bare,
Sonnet
© Frances Anne Kemble
SUGGESTED BY SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE OBSERVING THAT WE NEVER DREAM OF OURSELVES YOUNGER THAN WE ARE.
Not in our dreams, not even in our dreams
Crusoe in England
© Elizabeth Bishop
A new volcano has erupted,
the papers say, and last week I was reading
Something Left Undone. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The Second)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Labor with what zeal we will,
Something still remains undone,
Something uncompleted still
Waits the rising of the sun.
Matins
© Denise Levertov
Stir the holy grains, set
the bowls on the table and
call the child to eat.
An Old Tale Re-Told
© Madison Julius Cawein
Well, the laughter of Yule was turned to tears
For them and for us. We saw the glare
Of torches that hurried from chamber to stair;
And we heard the castle re-echo her name,
But neither to them nor to us she came.
And that was the last of Clara of Clare.
Everyday Characters III - The Belle Of The Ball Room
© Winthrop Mackworth Praed
YEARS, years ago, ere yet my dreams
Had been of being wise and witty;
Sonnets from the Portuguese 26: I Lived with Visions
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
I lived with visions for my company,
Instead of men and women, years ago,
Strange Fits of Passion Have I Known
© William Wordsworth
Strange fits of passion have I known:
And I will dare to tell,
But in the lover's ear alone,
What once to me befell.
