Dreams poems

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Kiss Me, Katie!

© Paul Hamilton Hayne

KATIE, Katie, little Katie!
Mouth of rose and eyes of blue,
(Eyes that look one frankly through!)
When I'm absent don't you miss me?

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The Power Of Words ‘Oinos.’

© Edgar Allan Poe

You have spoken nothing, my Oinos, for which pardon is to be
demanded. Not even here is knowledge a thing of intuition.
For wisdom, ask of the angels freely, that it may be given!

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The Death Of The Poor

© Charles Baudelaire

It is Death, alas, persuades us to keep on living:
the goal of life and the only hope we have,
like an elixir, rousing, intoxicating, giving
the strength to march on towards the grave:

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All White

© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

All white, all light, all beautiful she stands,
Love in her eyes, a glory round her brows,
Blanched as the lilies chaste in her chaste hands.
Even so God's saints in their celestial house.

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A Thing Of Beauty

© John Keats

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.

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Don Juan: Canto The Tenth

© George Gordon Byron

When Newton saw an apple fall, he found

In that slight startle from his contemplation--

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To A Beautiful Quaker

© George Gordon Byron

Sweet girl! though only once we met,

That meeting I shall ne'er forget;

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A Slight Misunderstanding at the Jasper Gate

© Henry Lawson

Oh, do you hear the argument, far up above the skies?

The voice of old Saint Peter, in expostulation rise?

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Truth

© William Cowper

Man, on the dubious waves of error toss'd,

His ship half founder'd, and his compass lost,

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Cupid And Swallows Flying From Winter. By Dagley

© Letitia Elizabeth Landon

Where the sunny eyes whose beams
Waken'd me from my soft dreams?--
These are with the swallows gone,--
Beauty's heart is chill'd to stone.

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The Prayer Of The Romans

© John Hay

Not done, but near its ending,

  Is the work that our eyes desired;

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The Complaint Of Ninathoma

© Samuel Taylor Coleridge

How long will ye round me be swelling,
O ye blue-tumbling waves of the sea?
Not always in caves was my dwelling,
Nor beneath the cold blast of the tree.

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Perkin Warbeck

© Lord Alfred Douglas

At Turney in Flanders I was born
Fore-doomed to splendour and sorrow,
For I was a king when they cut the corn,
And they strangle me to-morrow.

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Samadhi

© Paramahansa Yogananda

Vanished are the veils of light and shade,

Lifted the vapors of sorrow,

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The Vindictive

© Alfred Noyes


How should we praise those lads of the old Vindictive
  Who looked Death straight in the eyes,
  Till his gaze fell,
  In those red gates of hell?

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Anashuya And Vijaya

© William Butler Yeats

A little Indian temple in the Golden Age. Around it a garden;

around that the forest.  Anashuya, the young priestess, kneeling

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Winter Hue's Recalled

© Archibald Lampman

Life is not all for effort: there are hours,

When fancy breaks from the exacting will,

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Palmyra (1st Edition)

© Thomas Love Peacock

  --anankta ton pantôn huperbal-
  lonta chronon makarôn.
  Pindar. Hymn. frag. 33

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Abandoned

© Madison Julius Cawein

The hornets build in plaster-dropping rooms,

And on its mossy porch the lizard lies;

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An Ode For The Fourth Of July

© James Russell Lowell

Entranced I saw a vision in the cloud

That loitered dreaming in yon sunset sky,