Dreams poems
/ page 41 of 232 /The Path O' Little Children
© Edgar Albert Guest
The path o' little children is the path I want to tread,
Where green is every valley and every rose is red,
Where laughter's always ringing and every smile is real,
And where the hurts are little hurts that just a kiss will heal.
Why Not Do It, Sir, Today?
© Charles Lamb
"Why so I will, you noisy bird,
This very day I'll advertise you,
Perhaps some busy ones may prize you.
A fine-tongued parrot as was ever heard,
I'll word it thus-set forth all charms about you,
And say no family should be without you."
The First Part: Sonnet 10 - Fair Moon, who with thy cold and silver shine
© William Henry Drummond
Fair Moon, who with thy cold and silver shine
Makes sweet the horror of the dreadful night,
Sonnet XXVIII
© Fernando António Nogueira Pessoa
The edge of the green wave whitely doth hiss
Upon the wetted sand. I look, yet dream.
Wind-Clouds And Star-Drifts
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
Here am I, bound upon this pillared rock,
Prey to the vulture of a vast desire
That feeds upon my life. I burst my bands
And steal a moment's freedom from the beak,
The clinging talons and the shadowing plumes;
Then comes the false enchantress, with her song;
To an Old Grammar
© Martha M Simpson
Oh, mighty conjuror, you raise
The ghost of my lost youth -
The happy, golden-tinted days
When earth her treasure-trove displays,
And everything is truth.
Paradise Lost : Book IV.
© John Milton
O, for that warning voice, which he, who saw
The Apocalypse, heard cry in Heaven aloud,
Views Of Life
© Anne Brontë
When sinks my heart in hopeless gloom,
And life can show no joy for me;
And I behold a yawning tomb,
Where bowers and palaces should be;
Apology For Bad Dreams
© Robinson Jeffers
I
In the purple light, heavy with redwood, the slopes drop seaward,
Magdalen
© Fitz-Greene Halleck
I
A SWORD, whose blade has ne'er been wet
With blood, except of freedom's foes;
That hope which, though its sun be set,
'The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 5
© Publius Vergilius Maro
MEANTIME the Trojan cuts his watry way,
Fixd on his voyage, thro the curling sea;
The Cross Roads; Or, The Haymaker's Story
© John Clare
The maids, impatient now old Goody ceased,
As restless children from the school released,
Right gladly proving, what she'd just foretold,
That young ones' stories were preferred to old,
Turn to the whisperings of their former joy,
That oft deceive, but very rarely cloy.
Haunted Chambers
© Conrad Aiken
The lamp-lit page is turned, the dream forgotten;
The music changes tone, you wake, remember
Deep worlds you lived before, deep worlds hereafter
Of leaf on falling leaf, music on music,
Rain and sorrow and wind and dust and laughter.
The Fairy Queen Sleeping. By Stothard
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
She lay upon a bank, the favourite haunt
Of the spring wind in its first sunshine hour,
In France
© Francis Ledwidge
The silence of maternal hills
Is round me in my evening dreams ;
And round me music-making bills
And mingling waves of pastoral streams.
Hope
© William Cowper
Ask what is human life -- the sage replies,
With disappointment lowering in his eyes,
Spirit Voices
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
There are voices, spirit voices,
Sweetly sounding everywhere,
David And Goliath. A Sacred Drama
© Hannah More
Great Lord of all things! Power divine!
Breathe on this erring heart of mine
Thy grace serene and pure:
Defend my frail, my erring youth,
And teach me this important truth--
The humble are secure!