Dreams poems
/ page 84 of 232 /Youth And Manhood
© Henry Timrod
Another year! a short one, if it flow
Like that just past,
And I shall stand - if years can make me so -
A man at last.
The Prison Bell
© Owen Suffolk
Hark to the bell of sorrow! - 'tis awak'ning up again
Each broken spirit from its brief forgetfulness of pain.
OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII (Entire)
© Alfred Tennyson
Thou wilt not leave us in the dust:
Thou madest man, he knows not why,
He thinks he was not made to die;
And thou hast made him: thou art just.
The Seven Year Old Poet
© Arthur Rimbaud
And so the Mother, shutting up the duty book,
Went, proud and satisfied.
Afterglow
© Alice Guerin Crist
A magic wrought of dying dreams
A wizard light that creeps and glows;
Painting grey hills and sluggish streams
In tints of gold and rose
Vale` - Egypt's Might is Tumbled Down
© Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
Egypt's might is tumbled down
Down a-down the deeps of though;
Greece is fallen and Troy town,
Glorious Rome hath lost her crown,
Venice' pride is nought.
A Lullaby
© Edgar Albert Guest
THE dream ship is ready, the sea is like gold
And the fairy prince waits in command;
A Backward Look
© James Whitcomb Riley
As I sat smoking, alone, yesterday,
And lazily leaning back in my chair,
On A Bust Of General Grant
© James Russell Lowell
Strong, simple, silent are the [steadfast] laws
That sway this universe, of none withstood,
The Staircase With A Hundred Steps
© Benjamin Péret
The blue eagle and the demon of the steppes
in the last cab in Berlin
Multitudes Turn In Darkness
© Conrad Aiken
The half-shut doors through which we heard that music
Are softly closed. Horns mutter down to silence,
The stars wheel out, the night grows deep.
Darkness settles upon us; a Vague refrain
Drowsily teases at the drowsy brain.
In numberless rooms we stretch ourselves and sleep.
For The New Year
© Edith Nesbit
FLUSHED with a crimson sunrise beauty,
The fair new year its promise gave;
The Angel In The House. Book II. Canto VI.
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
Preludes.
I Love's Perversity
The Little Woman
© Edgar Albert Guest
The little woman, to her I bow
And doff my hat as I pass her by;