Dreams poems
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Nature in Perfection
© Richard Savage
No Glympse of Joy your Pleasures then convey'd,
Nor Midnight Ball, nor Morning Masquerade.
In vain to crouded Drawing Rooms you run:
The Court a Desart seems without your Son.
The Study and Beauties of the Works of Nature
© James Thomson
O Nature! all-sufficient! over all!
Enrich me with the knowledge of Thy works!
Moss on a Wall
© Henry Kendall
Dim dreams it hath of singing ways,
Of far-off woodland water-heads,
And shining ends of April days
Amongst the yellow runnel-beds.
Translation From The Medea Of Euripides
© George Gordon Byron
When fierce conflicting urge
The breast where love is wont to glow,
What mind can stem the stormy surge
Which rolls the tide of human woe?
Definition of Creative Art
© Boris Pasternak
With shirt wide open at the collar,
Maned as Beethoven's bust, it stands;
Our conscience, dreams, the night and love,
Are as chessmen covered by its hands.
God! God! God!
© Paramahansa Yogananda
From the depths of slumber,
As I ascend the spiral stairways of wakefulness,
I will whisper:
God! God! God!
Despair
© Frances Anne Kemble
Whene'er those forms arise before my sight,
E'en as from hideous visions of the night,
To My Sister,
© John Greenleaf Whittier
WITH A COPY OF "THE SUPERNATURALISM OF NEW ENGLAND."
Dear Sister! while the wise and sage
The Courtship Of Miles Standish
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Thereupon answered the youth: "Indeed I do not condemn you;
Stouter hearts that a woman's have quailed in this terrible winter.
Yours is tender and trusting, and needs a stronger to lean on;
So I have come to you now, with an offer and proffer of marriage
Made by a good man and true, Miles Standish the Captain of Plymouth!"
Epochs
© Emma Lazarus
Thin summer rain on grass and bush and hedge,
Reddening the road and deepening the green
On wide, blurred lawn, and in close-tangled sedge;
Veiling in gray the landscape stretched between
These low broad meadows and the pale hills seen
But dimly on the far horizon's edge.
Late October
© Madison Julius Cawein
Ah, haughty hills, sardonic solitudes,
What wizard touch hath, crowning you with gold,
Cast Tyrian purple o'er broad-shouldered woods,
And to your pride anointed empire sold
For wan traditioned death, whose misty moods
Shake each huge throne of quarried shadows cold?
A Book Of Strife In The Form Of The Diary Of An Old Soul - August
© George MacDonald
1.
SO shall abundant entrance me be given
Schoolgirls Hastening
© John Shaw Neilson
Fear it has faded and the night:
The bells all peal the hour of nine:
The schoolgirls hastening through the light
Touch the unknowable Divine.
Christmas
© Virna Sheard
With all the little children, far and near,
God wot! to-day we'll sing a song of cheer!
To rosy lips and eyes, that know not guile,
We one and all will give back smile for smile;
And for the sake of all the small and gay
We will be children also for to-day.
Sister Songs-An Offering To Two Sisters - Part The First
© Francis Thompson
The leaves dance, the leaves sing,
The leaves dance in the breath of the Spring.
The New Days
© Edgar Albert Guest
The old days, the old days, how oft the poets sing,
The days of hope at dewy morn, the days of early spring,
The Jailer
© Sylvia Plath
My night sweats grease his breakfast plate.
The same placard of blue fog is wheeled into position
With the same trees and headstones.
Is that all he can come up with,
The rattler of keys?
Heroes
© Emma Lazarus
In rich Virginian woods,
The scarlet creeper reddens over graves,
Among the solemn trees enlooped with vines;
Heroic spirits haunt the solitudes,-
The noble souls of half a million braves,
Amid the murmurous pines.
The Deer-Stone
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
And in a hollowed stone it shed
Its milk so warm and white,
And then, all timid, stood apart
To watch the babe's delight.
What Then?
© William Butler Yeats
HIS chosen comrades thought at school
He must grow a famous man;
He thought the same and lived by rule,
All his twenties crammed with toil;
"What then?' sang Plato's ghost. "What then?"
