Dreams poems

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Oh! young Lochinvar is come out of the west,
Through all the wide Border his steed was the best;
And save his good broadsword, he weapons had none,
He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone;
So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war,
There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.

Illa Creek

© Henry Kendall

A strong sea-wind flies up and sings
Across the blown-wet border,
Whose stormy echo runs and rings
Like bells in wild disorder.

The Poor Of The Borough. Letter XX: Ellen Orford

© George Crabbe

"No charms she now can boast,"--'tis true,

But other charmers wither too:

Glenfinlas; or, Lord Ronald's Coronach

© Sir Walter Scott

"O hone a rie'! O hone a rie!"
The pride of Albin's line is o'er,
And fall'n Glenartney's stateliest tree;
We ne'er shall see Lord Ronald more!" -

Kitchen Poem

© Francis Scarfe

In the hungry kitchen
The dog sings for its dinner.
The housewife is writing her poem
On top of the frigidaire
Something like this:

Maha-Bharata, The Epic Of Ancient India - Book V - Pativrata-Mahatmya - (Woman's Love)

© Romesh Chunder Dutt

The great _rishi_ Vyasa came to visit Yudhishthir, and advised Arjun,
great archer as he was, to acquire celestial arms by penance and
worship. Arjun followed the advice, met the god SIVA in the guise
of a hunter, pleased him by his prowess in combat, and obtained his
blessings and the _pasupata_ weapon. Arjun then went to INDRA'S
heaven and obtained other celestial arms.

Geraldine, Geraldine

© Madison Julius Cawein

Geraldine, Geraldine,

Do you remember where

The Loving Shepherdess

© Robinson Jeffers

She dreamed that a two-legged whiff of flame
Rose up from the house gable-peak crying, "Oh! Oh!"
And doubled in the middle and fled away on the wind
Like music above the bee-hives.

On Memphis Station

© Johannes Vilhelm Jensen

Half awake and half dozing,
Struck by a drear reality, but still lost
In an inner sea fog of Danaidean dreams
I stand teeth chattering
On Memphis Station, Tennessee.
It is raining.

Hyperion. Book I

© John Keats

Deep in the shady sadness of a vale

Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn,

The End Of The Century

© Madison Julius Cawein

There are moments when, as missions,
God reveals to us strange visions;
When, within their separate stations,
We may see the Centuries,
Like revolving constellations
Shaping out Earth's destinies.

Cock-Crowing

© Henry Vaughan

Father of lights! what sunny seed,
What glance of day hast Thou confined
Into this bird? To all the breed
This busy ray Thou hast assigned;
Their magnetism works all night,
And dreams of paradise and light.

In A Swedish Graveyard

© Emma Lazarus

After wearisome toil and much sorrow,

How quietly sleep they at last,

Welcome To Frost

© Paul Hamilton Hayne

O SPIRIT! at whose wafts of chilling breath
Autumn unbinds her zone, to rest in death;
Touched by whose blight the light of cordial days
Is lost in sombre browns and sullen grays;

At The Saturday Club

I start; I wake; the vision is withdrawn;
Its figures fading like the stars at dawn;
Crossed from the roll of life their cherished names,
And memory's pictures fading in their frames;
Yet life is lovelier for these transient gleams
Of buried friendships; blest is he who dreams!

Sonnet XXXIV

© Pablo Neruda

You are the daughter of the sea, oregano's first cousin.
Swimmer, your body is pure as the water;
cook, your blood is quick as the soil.
Everything you do is full of flowers, rich with the earth.