Poetry Archives

Dream on, for dreams are sweet:
  Do not awaken!
Dream on, and at thy feet
  Pomegranates shall be shaken.

Who likeneth the youth
  Of life to morning?
’Tis like the night in truth,
  Rose-coloured dreams adorning.

The wind is soft above,
  The shadows umber.
(There is a dream called Love.)
  Take thou the fullest slumber!

In Lethe’s soothing stream,
  Thy thirst thou slakest.
Sleep, sleep; ‘t is sweet to dream.
  Oh, weep when thou awakest!