Dreams poems
/ page 175 of 232 /Dreams of the Beloved
© Charles Harpur
HER IMAGE haunts me. Lo! I muse at even,
And straight it gathers from the gloom to make
Ballade Of The Dream
© Andrew Lang
Sleep, that giv'st what Life denies,
Shadowy bounties and supreme,
Bring the dearest face that flies
Following darkness like a dream!
This Morning
© Charles Simic
Enter without knocking, hard-working ant.
I'm just sitting here mulling over
What to do this dark, overcast day?
It was a night of the radio turned down low,
The Pool
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
By the pool that I see in my dreams, dear love,
I have sat with you time and again;
And listened beneath the dank leaves, dear love,
To the sibilant sound of the rain.
Sestina
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
I saw my soul at rest upon a day
As a bird sleeping in the nest of night,
Among soft leaves that give the starlight way
To touch its wings but not its eyes with light;
So that it knew as one in visions may,
And knew not as men waking, of delight.
Lullaby
© Louisa May Alcott
Now the day is done,
Now the shepherd sun
Drives his white flocks from the sky;
Now the flowers rest
On their mother's breast,
Hushed by her low lullaby.
Fairy Song
© Louisa May Alcott
The moonlight fades from flower and rose
And the stars dim one by one;
The tale is told, the song is sung,
And the Fairy feast is done.
The Marionettes Of Distant Masters
© Russell Edson
Then another butterfly begins to annoy the first butterfly.
He again wonders if he shouldn't call the police.
But, perhaps they are marionette-butterflies? He thinks
they are, belonging to rival masters seeing whose butterfly can
annoy the other's the most.
Midsummer Midnight Skies
© William Ernest Henley
The spell-bound ships stand as at gaze
To let the marvel by. The grey road glooms . . .
Glimmers . . . goes out . . . and there, O, there where it fades,
What grace, what glamour, what wild will,
Transfigure the shadows? Whose,
Heart of my heart, Soul of my soul, but yours?
Sorrow's Treachery
© Robert Fuller Murray
I made a truce last night with Sorrow,
The queen of tears, the foe of sleep,
To keep her tents until the morrow,
Nor send such dreams to make me weep.
Enchantment
© Madison Julius Cawein
The deep seclusion of this forest path, -
O'er which the green boughs weave a canopy;
Song. "Pass thy hand through my hair, love"
© Frances Anne Kemble
Pass thy hand through my hair, love;
One little year ago,
The Dancer Of The Daughters Of Herodias
© Arthur Symons
Is it the petals falling from the rose?
For in the silence I can hear a sound
North and South
© Claude McKay
O sweet are tropic lands for waking dreams!
There time and life move lazily along.
There by the banks of blue-and-silver streams
Grass-sheltered crickets chirp incessant song,
I Shall Return
© Claude McKay
I shall return again; I shall return
To laugh and love and watch with wonder-eyes
At golden noon the forest fires burn,
Wafting their blue-black smoke to sapphire skies.
The Dance To Death. Act I
© Emma Lazarus
This play is dedicated, in profound veneration and respect, to the
memory of George Eliot, the illustrious writer, who did most among
the artists of our day towards elevating and ennobling the spirit
of Jewish nationality.
The Little Orphan
© Edgar Albert Guest
Then through the hot and sultry day he plays at "make-pretend,"
The alley is a sandy beach where all the rich folks send
Their little boys and girls to play, a barrel is his boat,
But, oh, the air is tifling and the dust fills up his throat;
And though he tries so very hard to play, somehow it seems
He never gets such wondrous joys as angels bring in dreams.
The Improvisatore
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Eliza. Ask our friend, the Improvisatore ; here he comes. Kate has a favour
to ask of you, Sir ; it is that you will repeat the ballad [Believe me if
all those endearing young charms.--EHC's ? note] that Mr. ____ sang so
sweetly.