Dreams poems
/ page 66 of 232 /Memories
© William Henry Drummond
O spirit of the mountain that speaks to us to-night,
Your voice is sad, yet still recalls past visions of delight,
When 'mid the grand old Laurentides, old when the earth was new,
With flying feet we followed the moose and caribou.
Lines -- for Berkshire Jubilee, Aug. 23, 1844
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
Come back to your mother, ye children, for shame,
Who have wandered like truants for riches or fame!
With a smile on her face, and a sprig in her cap,
She calls you to feast from her bountiful lap.
Other Men
© Sara Teasdale
When I talk with other men
I always think of you -
Your words are keener than their words,
And they are gentler, too.
Voices Of The Night : The Light Of Stars
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The night is come, but not too soon;
And sinking silently,
Tale II
© George Crabbe
frame.
Yes! old and grieved, and trembling with decay,
Was Allen landing in his native bay,
Willing his breathless form should blend with
On Dreaming
© John Newton
When slumber seals our weary eyes,
The busy fancy wakeful keeps;
The scenes which then before us rise,
Prove something in us never sleeps.
The Dream days
© Edgar Albert Guest
I LIKE the dream days best of all,
The hollyhocks against the wall;
Three Day's Ride
© Stephen Vincent Benet
"FROM Belton Castle to Solway side,
Hard by the bridge, is three days' ride."
Rhymed Plea For Tolerance - Prefatory Dialogue
© John Kenyon
Ye, thus who write in spite of critic law,
How had their satire kept your freaks in awe!
And, to sole sway controlling her pretence,
Bound Fancy down to compromise with Sense!
Phases
© Wallace Stevens
I.
Theres a little square in Paris,
Waiting until we pass.
They sit idly there,
They sip the glass.
Fill The Goblet Again: A Song
© George Gordon Byron
Fill the goblet again! for I never before
Felt the glow which now gladdens my heart to its core;
Let us drink!--who would not?--since, through life's varied round,
In the goblet alone no deception is found.
Enamored Architect Of Airy Rhyme
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Enamored architect of airy rhyme,
Build as thou wilt, heed not what each man says:
The Pathfinders
© Vance Palmer
NIGHT, and a bitter sky, and strange birds crying,
The wan trees whisper and the winds make moan,
Here where in ultimate peace their bones are lying
In gaunt waste places that they made their own,
Beyond the ploughed lands where the corn is sown.
Anxiety
© Stéphane Mallarme
Her pure nails sprung up exalting their onyx,
Anxiety, this midnight, bearing light, sustains,
In twilight many dreams burnt up by the Phoenix
Whose scattered ashes no sepulchral urn contains
Agamemnons Tomb
© Emma Lazarus
Uplift the ponderous, golden mask of death,
And let the sun shine on him as it did
Gipsies' Horses
© William Henry Ogilvie
Many a time I've wondered where the gipsies horses go
When the caravans have faded from the lanes;
When all the world of Romany lies buried in the snow,
And not a rose of any fire remains.
On The Completion Of A Royal Palace
© Confucius
On yonder banks a palace, lo! upshoots,
The tender blue of southern hill behind;
Firm-founded, like the bamboo's clamping roots;
Its roof made pine-like, to a point defined.
Fraternal love here bears its precious fruits,
And unfraternal schemes be ne'er designed!
Hearts Encouragement
© Madison Julius Cawein
Nor time nor all his minions
Of sorrow or of pain,
Shall dash with vulture pinions
The cup she fills again
Within the dream-dominions
Of life where she doth reign.