Dreams poems
/ page 76 of 232 /
The Enchanted Island. By Danby
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
AND there the island lay, the waves around
Had never known a storm; for the north wind
Guilt And Sorrow, Or, Incidents Upon Salisbury Plain
© William Wordsworth
I
A TRAVELLER on the skirt of Sarum's Plain
Pursued his vagrant way, with feet half bare;
Stooping his gait, but not as if to gain
I'm Growing Old
© Anonymous
IM growing old t is surely so;
And yet how short it seems
Since I was but a sportive child,
Enjoying childish dreams!
Runnamede, A Tragedy. Acts III.-V.
© John Logan
What venerable father stands aghast
In yonder porch? Beneath the weight of years,
And crush of sorrow to the earth he bends.
He wrings his hands; casts a wild look to heaven,
And rends his hoary locks. He comes this way.
Heavens, it is Albemarle!-
To My First Born
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Fair tiny rosebud! what a tide
Of hidden joy, oerpowring, deep,
Of grateful love, of womans pride,
Thrills through my heart till I must weep
With bliss to look on thee, my son,
My first born childmy darling one!
On Carpaccio's Picture
© Amy Lowell
Swept, clean, and still, across the polished floor
From some unshuttered casement, hid from sight,
Bound For California
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
With buoyant heart he left his home for that bright wondrous land
Where gold ore gleams in countless mines, and gold dust strews the sand;
And youths dear ties were riven all, for as wild, as vain, a dream
As the meteor false that leads astray the traveller with its gleam.
I Would Live In Your Love
© Sara Teasdale
I would live in your love as the sea-grasses live in the sea,
Borne up by each wave as it passes, drawn down by each wave that recedes;
I would empty my soul of the dreams that have gathered in me,
I would beat with your heart as it beats, I would follow your soul as it leads.
The Banks Of Wye - Book II
© Robert Bloomfield
Return, my Llewellyn, the glory
That heroes may gain o'er the sea,
Though nations may feel
Their invincible steel,
By falsehood is tarnish'd in story;
Why tarry, Llewellyn, from me?
Earth-Visitors
© Kenneth Slessor
(To N.L.)
THERE were strange riders once, came gusting down
Cloaked in dark furs, with faces grave and sweet,
And white as air. None knew them, they were strangers
The Race
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
On the hill they are crowding together,
In the stand they are crushing for room,
Like midge-flies they swarm on the heather,
They gather like bees on the broom;
Goatsucker
© Sylvia Plath
So fables say the Goatsucker moves, masked from men's sight
In an ebony air, on wings of witch cloth,
Well-named, ill-famed a knavish fly-by-night,
Yet it never milked any goat, nor dealt cow death
And shadows only-cave-mouth bristle beset-
Cockchafers and the wan, green luna moth.
Mogg Megone - Part II.
© John Greenleaf Whittier
"O, tell me, father, can the dead
Walk on the earth, and look on us,
And lay upon the living's head
Their blessing or their curse?
For, O, last night she stood by me,
As I lay beneath the woodland tree!"
Song Of The Sirens
© Arthur Symons
Our breasts are cold, salt are our kisses,
Your blood shall whiten in our sea-blisses;
Slow and Reluctant Was the Long Descent
© George Santayana
Slow and reluctant was the long descent,
With many farewell pious looks behind,
Eva Gray
© Charles Harpur
PALER, paler, day by day,
Waxeth wordless Eva Gray,
Wasting through the heart away!
Third Sunday After Epiphany
© John Keble
I marked a rainbow in the north,
What time the wild autumnal sun
From his dark veil at noon looked forth,
As glorying in his course half done,
Flinging soft radiance far and wide
Over the dusky heaven and bleak hill-side.
An Artist Of The Beautiful
© John Greenleaf Whittier
GEORGE FULLER
Haunted of Beauty, like the marvellous youth
