Dreams poems
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The Fields Of Flanders
© Edith Nesbit
Last year the fields were all glad and gay
With silver daisies and silver may;
There were kingcups gold by the river's edge
And primrose stars under every hedge.
Womans Portion
© Madison Julius Cawein
The leaves are shivering on the thorn,
Drearily;
And sighing wakes the lean-eyed morn,
Wearily.
The Lady Of La Garaye - Part IV
© Caroline Norton
Not vacant in the day of which I write!
Then rose thy pillared columns fair and white;
Then floated out the odorous pleasant scent
Of cultured shrubs and flowers together blent,
And o'er the trim-kept gravel's tawny hue
Warm fell the shadows and the brightness too.
Perfect Union
© Mathilde Blind
Then, as its incandescent bulk
Sank slowly, like the foundering hulk
Of some lone burning ship at sea,
His life set with it--bright as brief--
In that invincible belief
Of Man's august supremacy.
The Cap And Bells; Or, The Jealousies: A Faery Tale -- Unfinished
© John Keats
I.
In midmost Ind, beside Hydaspes cool,
Ode XI: To The Country Gentlemen Of England
© Mark Akenside
I.
Whither is Europe's ancient spirit fled?
A Study in the 'Nood'
© Henry Lawson
He was barewe dont want to be rude
(His condition was owing to drink)
The Child Of The Islands - Spring
© Caroline Norton
I.
WHAT shalt THOU know of Spring? A verdant crown
Of young boughs waving o'er thy blooming head:
White tufted Guelder-roses, showering down
Tuesday In Whitsun-Week
© John Keble
"Lord, in Thy field I work all day,
I read, I teach, I warn, I pray,
And yet these wilful wandering sheep
Within Thy fold I cannot keep.
The Return Of Peace
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
They could not quell the grieved and shuddering air,
That breathed about me its forlorn despair:
It almost seemed as if stern Triumph sped
To one whose hopes were dead,
And flaunting there his fortune's ruddier grace,
Smote--with a taunt--wan Misery in the face!
Before The Mirror
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
WHERE in her chamber by the Southern sea,
Her taper's light shone soft and silvery,
Fair as a planet mirrored in the main,
Fresh as a blossom bathed by April rain,
To An Old Schoolhouse
© Margaret Elizabeth Sangster
Down by the end of the lane it stands,
Where the sumac grows in a crimson thatch,
The Purple Valleys
© Madison Julius Cawein
Far in the purple valleys of illusion
I see her waiting, like the soul of music,
The Visit Of Mahmoud Ben Suleim To Paradise
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
Perchance the past of man--and thence to draw
From far experience, sanctified by awe
Of God's mysterious ways, some hint to tell
Who of the dead in heaven and who in hell
Dwelt now in endless bliss or endless bale.
Ode Recited At The Harvard Commemoration July 21, 1865
© James Russell Lowell
Weak-Winged is Song,
Nor aims at that clear-ethered height
Freedoms
© Gerald Gould
To every hill there is a lowly slope,
But some have heights beyond all height--so high
They make new worlds for the adventuring eye.
We for achievement have forgone our hope,
And shall not see another morning ope,
Nor the new moon come into the new sky.
O Maytime Woods!
© Madison Julius Cawein
Serene with sleep, light visions weigh her eyes:
And underneath her window blooms a quince.
The night is a sultana who doth rise
In slippered caution, to admit a prince,
Love, who her eunuchs and her lord defies.
