Dreams poems
/ page 159 of 232 /
The Ladder Of St. Augustine. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Saint Augustine! well hast thou said,
That of our vices we can frame
Pray To What Earth Does This Sweet Cold Belong
© Henry David Thoreau
Pray to what earth does this sweet cold belong,
Which asks no duties and no conscience?
A Dark Day
© Madison Julius Cawein
Though Summer walks the world to-day
With corn-crowned hours for her guard,
Her thoughts have clad themselves in gray,
And wait in Autumn's weedy yard.
In The Twilight
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
NOT bed-time yet! The night-winds blow,
The stars are out,--full well we know
Aurora Leigh: Book Eighth
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
In my ears
The sound of waters. There he stood, my king!
Jeanie with the Light Brown Hair
© Stephen C. Foster
I dream of Jeanie with the light brown hair,
Borne, like a vapor, on the summer air;
The Messiah : A Sacred Eclogue
© Alexander Pope
Ye nymphs of Solyma! begin the song,
To heavenly themes sublimer strains belong.
The mossy fountains, and the sylvan shades,
The dreams of Pindus, and the Aonian maids,
Delight no more - O thou, my voice inspire,
Who touched Isaiah's hallowed lips with fire!
The Destroying Spirit
© Louisa Stuart Costello
I sit upon the rocks that frown
Above the rapid Nile;
The Anglers Reveille
© Henry Van Dyke
What time the rose of dawn is laid across the lips of night,
And all the little watchman-stars have fallen asleep in light,
'Tis then a merry wind awakes, and runs from tree to tree,
And borrows words from all the birds to sound the reveille.
The Withering Of The Boughs
© William Butler Yeats
I cried when the moon was murmuring to the birds:
'Let peewit call and curlew cry where they will,
The Bereaved One
© Henry Kendall
She sleepsand I see through a shadowy haze,
Where the hopes of the past and the dreams that I cherished
Over the hills and far away
© Eugene Field
Over the hills and far away,
A little boy steals from his morning play
Samson
© Frederick George Scott
Plunged in night, I sit alone
Eyeless on this dungeon stone,
Naked, shaggy, and unkempt,
Dreaming dreams no soul hath dreamt.
The Rock-A-By Lady
© Eugene Field
The Rock-a-By Lady from Hushaby street
Comes stealing; comes creeping;
The poppies they hang from her head to her feet,
And each hath a dream that is tiny and fleet -
She bringeth her poppies to you, my sweet,
When she findeth you sleeping!
A Basket of Flowers
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
Dawn
On skies still and starlit
White lustres take hold,
And grey flushes scarlet,
A Farewell
© William Wordsworth
FAREWELL, thou little Nook of mountain-ground,
Thou rocky corner in the lowest stair
Of that magnificent temple which doth bound
One side of our whole vale with grandeur rare;
The Lady of the Lake: Canto I. - The Chase
© Sir Walter Scott
Introduction.
Harp of the North! that mouldering long hast hung
Can Such Things Be?
© Madison Julius Cawein
Meseemed that while she played, while lightly yet
Her fingers fell, as roses bloom by bloom,
