Dreams poems
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Brook Farm
© Louise Imogen Guiney
Down the long road, bent and brown,
Youth, that dearly loves a vision,
Ventures to the gate Elysian,
As a pilgrim from the town.
The Sense Of Beauty
© Caroline Norton
Lo! at his pencil's touch steals faintly forth
(Like an uprising star in the cold north)
Some face which soon shall glow with beauty's fire:
Dim seems the sketch to those who stand around,
Dim and uncertain as an echoed sound,
But oh! how bright to him, whose hand thou dost inspire!
A Magic Moment I Remember
© Alexander Pushkin
A magic moment I remember:
I raised my eyes and you were there,
Storm
© Archibald Lampman
Out of the gray northwest, where many a day gone by
Ye tugged and howled in your tempestuous grot,
And evermore the huge frost giants lie,
Your wizard guards in vigilance unforgot,
The Emperor's Dream
© Zbigniew Herbert
A crevice! shouts the Emperor in his sleep, and the canopy of ostrich plumes trembles. The soldiers who pace the corridors with unsheathed swords believe the Emperor dreams about a siege. Just now he saw a fissure in the wall and wants them to break into the fortress.
In fact the Emperor is now a wood-louse who scurries across the floor, seeking remnants of food. Suddenly he sees overhead an immense foot about to crush him. The Emperor hunts for a crevice in which to squeeze. The floor is smooth and slippery.
Yes. Nothing is more ordinary than the dreams of Emperors.
Fairies
© Madison Julius Cawein
On the tremulous coppice,
From her plenteous hair,
Large golden-rayed poppies
Of moon-litten air
The Night hath flung there.
A Colloquy: (For M. W.)
© Katharine Tynan
"When you get to Heaven, seek and find my boy.
Mother him!" "Until you come?" "I shall never come.
Earth was good enough for me who had all my joy
In my Love, my Light of home.
Light And Wind
© Madison Julius Cawein
Where, through the myriad leaves of forest trees,
The daylight falls, beryl and chrysoprase,
August
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
THERE WERE four apples on the bough,
Half gold half red, that one might know
The blood was ripe inside the core;
The colour of the leaves was more
Like stems of yellow corn that grow
Through all the gold June meadows floor.
"Our Hope."
© James Brunton Stephens
A WIND-BORNE shred of that mysterious scroll
Wherein the secrets of the deep are writ:
The Dreams Of Youth
© Edgar Albert Guest
The dreams of youth are fairest,
The dreams of youth are rarest;
An Out-Worn Sappho
© James Whitcomb Riley
How tired I am! I sink down all alone
Here by the wayside of the Present. Lo,
Miss Pixie
© Lloyd Roberts
Did you ever meet Miss Pixie of the Spruces,
Did you ever glimpse her mocking elfin face,
Did you ever hear her calling while the whip-poor-wills were calling,
And slipped your pack and taken up the chase?
Love Sonnets
© Charles Harpur
How beautiful doth the morning rise
Oer the hills, as from her bower a bride
Comes brightenedblushing with the shame-faced pride
Of love that now consummated supplies
Trehill Well
© Charles Kingsley
There stood a low and ivied roof,
As gazing rustics tell,
In times of chivalry and song
'Yclept the holy well.
Tale Of A Tub
© Sylvia Plath
The photographic chamber of the eye
records bare painted walls, while an electric light
lays the chromium nerves of plumbing raw;
such poverty assaults the ego; caught
A Woman's Last Song. - From an Unpublished Romance
© Alaric Alexander Watts
'Tis now that softening hour
When love hath deepest power,
Pippa Passes: Part III: Evening
© Robert Browning
Mother
If there blew wind, you'd hear a long sigh, easing
The utmost heaviness of music's heart.
