Dreams poems
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My Heart Is Like A Withered Nut!
© Caroline Norton
MY heart is like a withered nut,
Rattling within its hollow shell;
You cannot ope my breast, and put
Any thing fresh with it to dwell.
The Knight-Errant
© Virna Sheard
Keen in his blood ran the old mad desire
To right the world's wrongs and champion truth;
Deep in his eyes shone a heaven-lit fire,
And royal and radiant day-dreams of youth!
Rococo
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
TAKE HANDS and part with laughter;
Touch lips and part with tears;
If Only I Were Santa Claus
© Edgar Albert Guest
If only I were Santa Claus and you were still a boy,
I'd find the chimney to your heart and fill it full of joy ;
"The Undying One" - Canto I
© Caroline Norton
"My parch'd lips strove for utterance--but no,
I could but listen still, with speechless woe:
I stretch'd my quivering arms--'Away! away!'
She cried, 'and let me humbly kneel, and pray
For pardon; if, indeed, such pardon be
For having dared to love--a thing like thee!'
My Playmate
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The pines were dark on Ramoth hill,
Their song was soft and low;
The blossoms in the sweet May wind
Were falling like the snow.
At Night
© Sara Teasdale
We are apart; the city grows quiet between us,
She hushes herself, for midnight makes heavy her eyes,
The tangle of traffic is ended, the cars are empty,
Five streets divide us, and on them the moonlight lies.
Ballad Of Jesus Of Nazareth
© Edgar Lee Masters
It matters not what place he drew
At first life's mortal breath,
Some say it was in Bethlehem,
And some in Nazareth.
But shame and sorrow were his lot
And shameful was his death.
The Shapes of Death
© Stephen Spender
Shapes of death haunt life,
Neurosis eclipsing each in special shadow:
Unrequited love not solving
Ones need to become anothers body
Lines For Music (III)
© Frances Anne Kemble
Good night! from music's softest spell
Go to thy dreams: and in thy slumbers,
The Red-Tressed Maiden
© Roderic Quinn
RED she is in a robe of sable,
Rosy with pictures and tales to tell:
She is a fairy, and yet no fable,
Weaving the dreams that we love so well.
A Ballad Of The Boston Tea-Party
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
It climbs and clasps the union-jack,
Its blazoned pomp is humbled,
The flags go down on land and sea
Like corn before the reapers;
So burned the fire that brewed the tea
That Boston served her keepers!
Admetus: To my friend, Ralph Waldo Emerson
© Emma Lazarus
He who could beard the lion in his lair,
To bind him for a girl, and tame the boar,
The Overlander
© William Henry Ogilvie
I knew them on the road : red, roan, and white,
Cock-horned and spear-horned, spotted, streaked and starred;
I knew their shapes moon-misted in the night
As I rode round them keeping lonely guard.
I knew them all, the laggards and the leaders,
The wild, the wandering, and the listless feeders.
Sordello: Book the Sixth
© Robert Browning
The thought of Eglamor's least like a thought,
And yet a false one, was, "Man shrinks to nought
Making Cider
© Victoria Mary Sackville-West
And framed within the latticed-panes,
Above the cluttered sill,
Saw rooks upon the stubble hill
Seeking forgotten grains;
St. Andrew's Day
© John Keble
When brothers part for manhood's race,
What gift may most endearing prove
To keep fond memory its her place,
And certify a brother's love?
In Leinster
© Louise Imogen Guiney
I TRY to knead and spin, but my life is low the while.
Oh, I long to be alone, and walk abroad a mile;
Yet if I walk alone, and think of naught at all,
Why from me that s young should the wild tears fall?
Sleep
© George MacDonald
Oh! is it Death that comes
To have a foretaste of the whole?
To-night the planets and the stars
Will glimmer through my window-bars
But will not shine upon my soul!
