Dreams poems
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The Hills Of Youth
© Alfred Noyes
Once, on the far blue hills,
Alone with the pine and the cloud, in those high still places;
Foreshadowings
© Henry Kendall
FIFTEEN miles and then the harbour! Here we cannot choose but stand,
Faces thrust towards the day-break, listening for our native land!
The Dunciad: Book I.
© Alexander Pope
The Mighty Mother, and her son who brings
The Smithfield muses to the ear of kings,
In The Land Of Dreams
© Mary Hannay Foott
To the leaf-dyed pool whence the mallards flattered,
Or ever the horses had paused to drink;
Where the word was said and the vow was uttered
That brighten for ever its weedy brink.
Natalias Resurrection: Sonnet XII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
He slept as only under the free heaven
It is given to sleep, a slumber shadowless
As the broad river to whose banks at even
That spirit comes which brings forgetfulness,
Sonnet Of Motherhood XXVII
© Zora Bernice May Cross
Dearest, as much as I, you breathe in pain,
Breeding yourselfyour very soul from me
By look and sign, soft word and action strong,
And all you longed for in its form regain.
I am a humble haven where we three,
Father and child and mother, make a song.
The Year's End
© Roderic Quinn
THE voices of the wind and wave
They sigh the Old Year's requiem;
The dead are calling from the grave
Good friends, a little space I crave
Amnesiac
© Sylvia Plath
No use, no use, now, begging Recognize!
There is nothing to do with such a beautiful blank but smooth it.
Name, house, car keys,
Mountain Pictures
© John Greenleaf Whittier
I. FRANCONIA FROM THE PEMIGEWASSET
Once more, O Mountains of the North, unveil
First Sunday After Christmas
© John Keble
'Tis true, of old the unchanging sun
His daily course refused to run,
The pale moon hurrying to the west
Paused at a mortal's call, to aid
The avenging storm of war, that laid
Seven guilty realms at once on earth's defiled breast.
The Task: Book III. -- The Garden
© William Cowper
As one who, long in thickets and in brakes
Entangled, winds now this way and now that
Summer Dreams
© Edgar Albert Guest
Drowsy old summer, with nothing to do,
I'd like to be drowsin' an' dreamin' with you;
The Prodigal
© Peter McArthur
LAST night the boy came back to me again,
The laughing boy, all-credulous of good
Earth
© John Hall Wheelock
Yea, and this, my poem, too,
Is part of her as dust and dew,
Wherein herself she doth declare
Through my lips, and say her prayer.
The Abencerrage : Canto I.
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Lonely and still are now thy marble halls,
Thou fair Alhambra! there the feast is o'er;
And with the murmur of thy fountain-falls,
Blend the wild tones of minstrelsy no more.
Under The Old Elm
© James Russell Lowell
Placid completeness, life without a fall
From faith or highest aims, truth's breachless wall,
Surely if any fame can bear the touch,
His will say 'Here!' at the last trumpet's call,
The unexpressive man whose life expressed so much.
The Bloom of Life, fading in a happy Death.
© Mather Byles
I.
Great GOD, how frail a Thing is Man!
How swift his Minutes pass!
His Age contracts within a Span;
He blooms and dies like Grass.
