Dreams poems
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By The Seaside : The Evening Star
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Lo! in the painted oriel of the West,
Whose panes the sunken sun incarnadines,
Upon a Visit to a Lady of Quality
© William Shenstone
On fair Asteria's blissful plains,
Where ever-blooming fancy reigns,
How pleased we pass the winter's day,
And charm the dull-eyed Spleen away!
Hast Thou Forgotten Me?
© Philip Joseph Holdsworth
HAST thou forgotten me? the days are dark
Light ebbs from heaven, and songless soars the lark
Names Upon a Stone: (Inscribed to G. L. Fagan, Esq.)
© Henry Kendall
ACROSS bleak widths of broken sea
A fierce north-easter breaks,
May Is A Pious Fraud
© James Russell Lowell
MaY is a pious fraud of the almanac.
A ghastly parody of real Spring
The Dreamer
© David MacDonald Ross
WHO seeks the shore where dreams outpour
Their floods in Slumber Seas
The House Of Dust: Part 03: 13:
© Conrad Aiken
The half-shut doors through which we heard that music
Are softly closed. Horns mutter down to silence.
The stars whirl 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.
The Loves of the Angels
© Thomas Moore
Alas! that Passion should profane
Even then the morning of the earth!
That, sadder still, the fatal stain
Should fall on hearts of heavenly birth-
And that from Woman's love should fall
So dark a stain, most sad of all!
The Phantom of the Rose
© Théophile Gautier
Sweet lady, let your lids unclose.--
Those lids by maiden dreams caressed;
I am the phantom of the rose
You wore last night upon your breast.
Elegy
© Robert Laurence Binyon
The little waves fall in the wintry light
On idle sands along the bitter shore.
The piling clouds are all a pale suspended flight;
They tarry and are moved no more.
To Night
© Arthur Symons
I have loved wind and light,
And the bright sea,
But, holy and most secret Night,
Not as I love and have loved thee.
What Makes Summer?
© George MacDonald
Winter froze both brook and well;
Fast and fast the snowflakes fell;
Tale V
© George Crabbe
these,
All that on idle, ardent spirits seize;
Robbers at land and pirates on the main,
Enchanters foil'd, spells broken, giants slain;
Legends of love, with tales of halls and bowers,
Choice of rare songs, and garlands of choice
Queries
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Well, how has it been with you since we met
That last strange time of a hundred times?
When we met to swear that we could forget
I your caresses, and you my rhymes
The Child's Music Lesson
© Archibald Lampman
Why weep ye in your innocent toil at all?
Sweet little hands, why halt and tremble so?
The Abandoned
© Mathilde Blind
SHE sat by the wayside and wept, where roses, red roses and white,
Lay wasted and withered and sere, like her life and its ruined delight;
Like chaff blown about in the wind whirled roses, white roses and red,
And pale, on night's threshold, the moon bent over the day that was dead.
The Hand In The Dark
© Ada Cambridge
How calm the spangled city spread below!
How cool the night! How fair the starry skies!
How sweet the dewy breezes! But I know
What, under all their seeming beauty, lies.
On A Movement Of Beethovens
© George MacDonald
Ave! Once more touch the strings
That Memory may feed upon the strain,
And over-live again
The days,
When the heart gloried in the golden lays
That give the spirit wings.
