Dreams poems

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The Shipwreck Of Idomeneus

© George Meredith

Amid the din of elemental strife,
No voice may pierce but Deity supreme:
And Deity supreme alone can hear,
Above the hurricane's discordant shrieks,
The cry of agonized humanity.

Paradise Lost: Book XII (1674)

AS one who in his journey bates at Noone,
Though bent on speed, so heer the Archangel paus'd
Betwixt the world destroy'd and world restor'd,
If Adam aught perhaps might interpose;
Then with transition sweet new Speech resumes.

North Wind

© Lola Ridge

I love you, malcontent
Male wind -
Shaking the pollen from a flower
Or hurling the sea backward from the grinning sand.

from The Testament of Love

© John Hall Wheelock

from Book I, Introduction

Man’s Reason is in such deep insolvency to sense,

Singing School

© Seamus Justin Heaney

Ulster was British, but with no rights on
The English lyric: all around us, though
We hadn’t named it, the ministry of fear.

Tiare Tahiti

© Rupert Brooke

Mamua, when our laughter ends,

And hearts and bodies, brown as white,

The Great Society

© Robert Bly

Dentists continue to water their lawns even in the rain:
Hands developed with terrible labor by apes
Hang from the sleeves of evangelists;
There are murdered kings in the light-bulbs outside movie theaters:
The coffins of the poor are hibernating in piles of new tires.

The Pleasures of Hope: Part 1

© Thomas Campbell

At summer eve, when Heaven's ethereal bow

Spans with bright arch the glittering bills below,

Paradise Lost: Book IX

© Patrick Kavanagh

So gloz'd the Tempter, and his proem tun'd.
Into the heart of Eve his words made way,
Though at the voice much marvelling; at length,
Not unamaz'd, she thus in answer spake:

El Dorado

© John Ashbery

We have a friend in common, the retired sophomore.

His concern: that I shall get it like that,

Human Life, On The Denial Of Immortality

© Samuel Taylor Coleridge

If dead, we cease to be; if total gloom
Swallow up life's brief flash for aye, we fare
As summer-gusts, of sudden birth and doom,
Whose sound and motion not alone declare,

The Peasant Girl Of The Rhone

© Felicia Dorothea Hemans

There is but one place in the world:
Thither where he lies buried!
Anon

A Shropshire Lad XXXV: On the idle hill of summer

© Alfred Edward Housman

On the idle hill of summer,
Sleepy with the flow of streams,
Far I hear the steady drummer
Drumming like a noise in dreams.

Drowned at Sea

Gloomy cliffs, so worn and wasted with the washing of the waves,

Are ye not like giant tombstones round those lonely ocean graves?

Hymns to the Night : 5

© Novalis

In ancient times, over the widespread families of men an iron Fate ruled with dumb force. A gloomy oppression swathed their heavy souls - the earth was boundless - the abode of the gods and their home. From eternal ages stood its mysterious structure. Beyond the red hills of the morning, in the sacred bosom of the sea, dwelt the sun, the all-enkindling, living Light. An aged giant upbore the blissful world. Fast beneath mountains lay the first-born sons of mother Earth. Helpless in their destroying fury against the new, glorious race of gods, and their kindred, glad-hearted men. The ocean's dark green abyss was the lap of a goddess. In crystal grottos revelled a luxuriant folk. Rivers, trees, flowers, and beasts had human wits. Sweeter tasted the wine - poured out by Youth-abundance - a god in the grape-clusters - a loving, motherly goddess upgrew in the full golden sheaves - love's sacred inebriation was a sweet worship of the fairest of the god-ladies - Life rustled through the centuries like one spring-time, an ever-variegated festival of heaven-children and earth-dwellers. All races childlike adored the ethereal, thousand-fold flame as the one sublimest thing in the world. There was but one notion, a horrible dream-shape -

That fearsome to the merry tables strode,