Dreams poems
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Zapolya
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
A sunny shaft did I behold,
From sky to earth it slanted :
And poised therein a bird so bold--
Sweet bird, thou wert enchanted !
Human Life
© 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 Nightingale Near The House
© Harold Monro
Here is the soundless cypress on the lawn:
It listens, listens. Taller trees beyond
Listen. The moon at the unruffled pond
Stares. And you sing, you sing.
Fears In Solitude
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
[Image][Image][Image][Image][Image] May my fears,
My filial fears, be vain ! and may the vaunts
And menace of the vengeful enemy
Pass like the gust, that roared and died away
In the distant tree : which heard, and only heard
In this low dell, bowed not the delicate grass.
To A New-Born Baby Girl
© Grace Hazard Conkling
And did thy sapphire shallop slip
Its moorings suddenly, to dip
Pray to What Earth
© Henry David Thoreau
Pray to what earth does this sweet cold belong,
Which asks no duties and no conscience?
The moon goes up by leaps, her cheerful path
In some far summer stratum of the sky,
To Roosevelt {1}
© Rubén Dario
You are strong, proud model of your race;
you are cultured and able; you oppose Tolstoy.
You are an Alexander-Nebuchadnezzar,
breaking horses and murdering tigers.
(You are a Professor of Energy,
as current lunatics say).
Cabbage Key
© Shawn McAllister
Once Hemingway
sat across this bay
and touched the endless sea
The gulf-stretched sun
Paradise Lost : Book V.
© John Milton
Now Morn, her rosy steps in the eastern clime
Advancing, sowed the earth with orient pearl,
The Two Peacocks of Bedfont
© Thomas Hood
I
Alas! That breathing Vanity should go
Where Pride is buried,like its very ghost,
Uprisen from the naked bones below,
Dreams In Rome
© Arthur Symons
What is it that sings a sleepy tune in my head?
Some faint old forgotten moon that is dead?
I will arise, for the dreams are about my bed.
Dream Song 9: Deprived of his enemy, shrugged to a standstill
© John Berryman
Deprived of his enemy, shrugged to a standstill
horrible Henry, foaming. Fan their way
toward him who will
in the high wood: the officers, their rest,
with p. a. echoing: his girl comes, say,
conned in to test
The Ring And The Book - Chapter VII - Pompilia
© Robert Browning
There,
Strength comes already with the utterance!
I will remember once more for his sake
The sorrow: for he lives and is belied.
Could he be here, how he would speak for me!
Dream Song 49: Blind
© John Berryman
Old Pussy-cat if he won't eat, he don't
feel good into his tum', old Pussy-cat.
He wants to have eaten.
Tremor, heaves, he sweaterings. He can't.
A dizzy swims of where is Henry at;
. . . somewhere streng verboten.
Song
© Frances Anne Kemble
I sing the yellow leaf,
That rustling strews
The wintry path, where grief
Delights to muse.
Roan Stallion
© Robinson Jeffers
She rose at length, she unknotted the halter; she walked and led
the stallion; two figures, woman and stallion,
Came down the silent emptiness of the dome of the hill, under
the cataract of the moonlight.
Stanzas To Jessy
© George Gordon Byron
There is a mystic thread of life
So dearly wreath'd with mine alone,
That Destiny's relentless knife
At once must sever both, or none.
Sonnet 104 - A spot of poontang on a five-foot piece
© John Berryman
And cuff her silly-hot again, mouth hot
And wet her small round writhingbut this screams
Suddenly awake, unreal as alkahest,
My god, this isn't what I want!You tot
The harrow-days you hold me to, black dreams,
The dirty water to get off my chest.
