Dreams poems
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The Moonmen
© Madison Julius Cawein
I stood in the forest on HURON HILL
When the night was old and the world was still.
One Day And Another: A Lyrical Eclogue Part III
© Madison Julius Cawein
I seem to see her still; to see
That dim blue room. Her perfume comes
From lavender folds draped dreamily--
One blossom of brocaded blooms--
Some stuff of orient looms.
April
© Archibald Lampman
Pale season, watcher in unvexed suspense,
Still priestess of the patient middle day,
On A Summers Day
© Hayyim Nahman Bialik
When high noon on a summers day
makes the sky a fiery furnace
and the heart seeks a quiet corner for dreams,
then come to me, my weary friend.
Laus Mortis
© Arthur Symons
I bring to thee, for love, white roses, delicate Death!
White lilies of the valley, dropping gentle tears,
A Manchester Poem
© George MacDonald
'Tis a poor drizzly morning, dark and sad.
The cloud has fallen, and filled with fold on fold
The chimneyed city; and the smoke is caught,
And spreads diluted in the cloud, and sinks,
A black precipitate, on miry streets.
And faces gray glide through the darkened fog.
Boys Bathing
© Muriel Stuart
And colder than these waters are
The stream that takes your limbs at last:
Earth's vales and hills drift slowly past. . .
One shore far off, and one more far
The Author's Farewell to the Bushmen
© Henry Lawson
Some carry their swags in the Great North-West,
Where the bravest battle and die,
The Slumber Angel
© Virna Sheard
When day is ended, and grey twilight flies
On silent wings across the tired land,
The slumber angel cometh from the skies-
The slumber angel of the peaceful eyes,
And with the scarlet poppies in his hand.
The Wisdom Of Merlyn
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
These are the time--words of Merlyn, the voice of his age recorded,
All his wisdom of life, the fruit of tears in his youth, of joy in his manhood hoarded,
All the wit of his years unsealed, to the witless alms awarded.
Midsummer
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
HERE! sweep these foolish leaves away,
I will not crush my brains to-day!
Look! are the southern curtains drawn?
Fetch me a fan, and so begone!
Geraldine
© Madison Julius Cawein
Ah, Geraldine, lost Geraldine,
That night of love, when first we met,
You have forgotten, Geraldine--
I never dreamed you would forget.
The Dead
© Charles Heavysege
How great unto the living seem the dead!
How sacred, solemn; how heroic grown;
The Memorial Pillar
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Hast thou thro' Eden's wild-wood vales, pursued
Each mountain-scene, magnificently rude,
Nor with attention's lifted eye, revered
That modest stone, by pious Pembroke rear'd,
Which still records, beyond the pencil's power,
The silent sorrows of a parting hour? ~ ROGERS.
To A Young Mother On The Birth Of Her First Born Child
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Young mother! proudly throbs thine heart, and well may it rejoice,
Well mayst thou raise to Heaven above in grateful prayer thy voice:
A gift hath been bestowed on thee, a gift of priceless worth,
Far dearer to thy womans heart than all the wealth of earth.
Address To A Maid
© Charles Mair
If those twin gardens of delight,
Thine eyes, were ever in my sight,
Sonnet VI
© Caroline Norton
WHERE the red wine-cup floweth, there art thou!
Where luxury curtains out the evening sky;--
Triumphant Mirth sits flush'd upon thy brow,
And ready laughter lurks within thine eye.
