Poetry



A Dream within a Dream
by Edgar Allen Poe

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow:
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if Hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand–—
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep–—while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?




Nature
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

As a fond mother, when the day is o'er,

Leads by the hand her little child to bed,
Half willing, half reluctant to be led,
And leave his playthings on the floor,

Still gazing at them through the open door,

Nor wholly reassured and comforted
By promises of others in their stead
Which, though more splendid, may not

please him more;

So Nature deals with us, and takes away

Our playthings one by one, and by the hand

Leads us to rest so gently, that we go

Scarce knowing if we wish to go or stay,

Being too full of sleep to understand

How far the unknown transcends the

what we know.

The Day Is Done
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The day is done, and the darkness

Falls from the wings of night,

As a feather is wafted downward

From an eagle in his flight

I see the lights of the village

Gleam through the rain and mist

And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me

That my soul cannot resist:

A feeling of sadness and longing

That is not akin to pain,

And resembles sorrow only

As the mist resembles rain

Come, read to me some poem,

Some simple and heartfelt lay,

That shall soothe this restless feeling,

And banish the thoughts of day.

Not from the grand old masters,

Not from the bards sublime,

Whose distant footsteps echo

Through the corridors of time

For, like strains of martial music,

Their mighty thoughts suggest

Life's endless toil and endeavor;

And tonight I long for rest.

Read from some humbler poet,

Whose sayings gushed from his heart,

As showers from the clouds of summer,

Or tears from eyelids start;

Who, through long days of labor,

And nights devoid of ease,

Still heard in his soul the music

Of wonderful melodies

Such songs have power to quiet

The restless pulse of care,

And come like the benediction

That follows after prayer.

Then read from the treasured volume

The poet of thy choice,

And lend to the rhyme of the poet

The beauty of thy voice.

And the night shall be filled with music,

And the cares of the day

Shall fold their tents like the Arabs

And as silently steal away.




The Rainy Day
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;

It rains, and the wind is never weary;

The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,

But at every gust the dead leaves fall,

And the day is dark and dreary.

My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;

It rains, and the wind is never weary;

My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past,

But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,

And the days are dark and dreary.

Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;

Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;

Thy fate is the common fate of all,

Into each life some rain must fall,

Some days must be dark and dreary.




Remember
by Christina Rossetti

Remember me when I am gone away,

Gone far away into the silent land;

When you can no longer hold me by the hand,

Nor I half turn to go, yet turning stay.

Remember me when no more day by day,

You tell me of our future you have planned:

Only remember me; you understand

It will be late to counsel then or pray.

Yet if you should forget me for a while

And afterwards remember, do not grieve:

For if the darkness and corruption leave

A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,

Better by far you should forget and smile

Than that you should remember and be sad.

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
by Robert Frost

Whose woods are these I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.




The Pasture
by Robert Frost

I'm going out to clean the pasture spring,
I'll only stop to rake the leaves away
(And wait to catch the water clear I may)
I shan't be gone long--You come too.

I'm going out to fetch the little calf
That's standing by the mother. It's so young,
It toters when she licks it with her tongue.
I shan't be gone long--You come too.




The Erlking
by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Who rides so late through the grisly night?
'Tis a father and child, and he grasps him tight;
He wraps him close in his mantle's fold,
And shelters the boy from the piercing cold.

"My son, why thus to my arm dost thou cling?"
"Father, dost thou not see the erlie-king?
The king with his crown and his long black train!"
"My son, 'tis a streak of the misty rain!"

"Come hither, thou darling! Come, go with me!
Fine games know I that I'll play with thee;
Flowers many and bright do my kingdoms hold,
My mother has a robe of gold."

"O Father, dear Father! And dost thou not hear
What the erlie-king whispers so low in mine ear?"
"Calm, calm thee, my boy, it is only the breeze,
As it rustles the withered leaves under the trees!"

"Wilt thou go, bonny boy, wilt thou go with me?
My daughters shall wait on thee daintily;
My daughters around thee in dance shall sweep,
And rock thee and kiss thee and sing thee to sleep!"

"O Father, dear Father! And dost thou not mark
The erlie-king's daughters move by in the dark?"
"I see it, my child; but it is not they,
'Tis the old willow nodding its head so gray."

"I love thee! Thy beauty it charms me so;
And I'll take thee by force if thou wilt not go!"
"O Father, dear Father, he's grasping me--
My heart is as cold as cold can be!"

The father rides swiftly--with terror he gasps--
The sobbing child in his arms he clasps;
He reaches the castle with spurring and dread;
But alack! In his arms the child lay dead!




Thou and I
by Sidney Lanier

So one in heart and thought, I trow,
That thou might'st press the strings and I might draw the bow
And both would meet in music sweet,
Thou and I, I trow.




If I Can Stop One Heart From Breaking
by Emily Dickinson

If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.




Outwitted
by Edwin Markham

He drew a circle that shut me out--
Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout.
But Love and I had the wit to win:
We drew a circle that took him in!




Let No Charitable Hope
Elinor Wylie

Now let no charitable hope
Confuse my mind with images
Of eagle and antelope;
I am in nature none of these.

I was, being human, born alone;
I was, being woman, hard beset;
I live by squeezing from a stone
The little nourishment I get.

In masks outrageous and austere
The years go by in single file;
But none has merited my fear,
And none has quite escaped my smile.




Second Fig
by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Safe upon the rock the ugly houses stand:
Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand!




Lament
by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Listen, children:
Your father is dead,
From his old coats
I'll make you little jackets
I'll make you little trousers
From his old pants.
There'll be in his pockets
Things he used to put there,
Keys and pennies
Covered with tobacco:
Dan shall have the pennies
To save in his bank;
Anne shall have the keys
To make a pretty noise with.
Life must go on,
And the dead be forgotten;
Life must go on,
Though good men die;
Anne, eat your breakfast;
Dan, take your medicine;
Life must go on;
I forget just why.




Untitled
by Marlea Allen
(I don't know what to name this, maybe "Regaining Lost Love," though it was never really lost..)

Remember when

you would just hold me for hours on end

we were lovers and best friends

you would touch me face

....and look at me

....and call me your baby
Remember?
And then it all went downhill so fast

the fights

the bitter words

the anger

....but more the pain

....and the fear.
And I loved you so,

and you loved me still,

....but I didn't know..
Back then

when I thought of you constantly

when I held you more dear than the next breath

when I loved you more than life itself-
When I still do.

My Tora No Shi, my Tiger of Death,

more than anything I have wanted you back,

and more than anything I will fight to keep you this time.

You are
My love, my life, my heart,
My only.
My breath, my words, my thoughts,
My soul.









Okay, I will add more later....


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