Dreams poems
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Evening Prayer
© Arthur Rimbaud
I spend my life sitting - like an angel
in the hands of a barber - a deeply fluted beer mug
in my fist, belly and neck curved,
a Gambier pipe in my teeth, under the air
swelling with impalpable veils of smoke.
Hymns From The French Of Lamartine
© John Greenleaf Whittier
I.
"Encore un hymne, O ma lyre
Un hymn pour le Seigneur,
Un hymne dans mon delire,
Un hymne dans mon bonheur."
The House Of Dust: Part 01: 01:
© Conrad Aiken
The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light.
The trees grow dark: the shadows lean to the east:
And lights wink out through the windows, one by one.
A clamor of frosty sirens mourns at the night.
Pale slate-grey clouds whirl up from the sunken sun.
Lament Of A Mocking-Bird
© Frances Anne Kemble
Silence instead of thy sweet song, my bird,
Which through the darkness of my winter days
Warbling of summer sunshine still was heard;
Mute is thy song, and vacant is thy place.
Sonnett VI: A Nuptial Sleep
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
At length their long kiss severed, with sweet smart:
And as the last slow sudden drops are shed
Ryton Firs
© Lascelles Abercrombie
All round the knoll, on days of quietest air,
Secrets are being told; and if the trees
Speak out let them make uproar loud as drums
'Tis secrets still, shouted instead of whisper'd.
Don Juan: Canto The Fourteenth
© George Gordon Byron
If from great nature's or our own abyss
Of thought we could but snatch a certainty,
The Visionary Boy
© William Lisle Bowles
Oh! lend that lute, sweet Archimage, to me!
Enough of care and heaviness
But Listen, I Am Warning You
© Anna Akhmatova
But listen, I am warning you
I'm living for the very last time.
New Year's Night, 1916
© Duncan Campbell Scott
The Earth moans in her sleep
Like an old mother
Whose sons have gone to the war,
Who weeps silently in her heart
Till dreams comfort her.
The Pleasures of Memory - Part I.
© Samuel Rogers
Twilight's soft dews steal o'er the village-green,
With magic tints to harmonize the scene.
Still'd is the hum that thro' the hamlet broke,
When round the ruins of their antient oak
The Voyage of Telegonus
© Henry Kendall
Ill fares it with the man whose lips are set
To bitter themes and words that spite the gods;
Twilight In The North
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
O THE long northern twilight between the day and the night,
When the heat and the weariness of the world are ended quite:
When the hills grow dim as dreams, and the crystal river seems
Like that River of Life from out the Throne where the blessèd walk in white.
The Pennsylvania Pilgrim
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The Pennsylvania Pilgrim
Never in tenderer quiet lapsed the day
From Pennsylvania's vales of spring away,
Where, forest-walled, the scattered hamlets lay
The Wanderer Looking Into Other Homes
© Caroline Norton
A LONE, wayfaring wretch I saw, who stood
Wearily pausing by the wicket gate;
And from his eyes there streamed a bitter flood,
Contrasting his with many a happier fate.
A Sicilian Idyll
© Thomas Sturge Moore
Cydilla
Thanks, Damon; now, by Zeus, thou art so brisk,
It shames me that to stoop should try my bones.
Dreams
© Henry Timrod
Who first said "false as dreams?" Not one who saw
Into the wild and wondrous world they sway;
No thinker who hath read their mystic law;
No Poet who hath weaved them in his lay.
The Other One
© Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev
I wait for, full of thoughts provoking,
But not a gay and pretty wife,
Not the sincere and gentle talking
About the old time and life.
Douro
© Robert Laurence Binyon
The dripping of the boughs in silence heard
Softly; the low note of some lingering bird
Amid the weeping vapour; the chill fall
Of solitary evening upon all
