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Doubtful Dreams

Aye, snows are rife in December,
And sheaves are in August yet,
And you would have me remember,
And I would rather forget ;
In the bloom of the May-day weather,
In the blight of October chill,
We were dreamers of old together,—
As of old, are you dreaming still ?

For nothing on earth is sadder
Than the dream that cheated the grasp,
The flower that turned to the adder,
The fruit that changed to the asp ;
When the day-spring in darkness closes,
As the sunset fades from the hills,
With the fragrance of perish'd roses,
With the music of parch'd-up rills.

When the sands on the sea-shore nourish
Red clover and yellow corn ;
When figs on the thistle flourish,
And grapes grow thick on the thorn ;
When the dead branch, blighted and blasted,
Puts forth green leaves in the spring,
Then the dream that life has outlasted
Dead comfort to life may bring.

I have changed the soil and the season,
But whether skies freeze or flame,
The soil they flame on or freeze on
Is changed in little save name ;
The loadstone points to the nor'ward,
The river runs to the sea ;
And you would have me look forward,
And backward I fain would flee.

I remember the bright spring garlands,
The gold that spangled the green,
And the purple on fairy far lands,
And the white and the red bloom, seen
From the spot where we last lay dreaming
Together—yourself and I—
The soft grass beneath us gleaming,
Above us the great grave sky.

And we spoke thus : 'Though we have trodden
Rough paths in our boyish years ;
And some with our sweat are sodden,
And some are salt with our tears ;
Though we stumble still, walking blindly,
Our paths shall be made all straight ;
We are weak, but the heavens are kindly,
The skies are compassionate.'

Is the clime of the old and younger,
Where the young dreams longer are nursed ?
With the old insatiable hunger,
With the old unquenchable thirst,
Are you longing, as in the old years
We have longed so often in vain ;
Fellow-toilers still, fellow-soldiers,
Though the seas have sundered us twain ?

But the young dreams surely have faded !
Young dreams !—old dreams of young days—
Shall the new dream vex us as they did ?
Or as things worth censure or praise ?
Real toil is ours, real trouble,
Dim dreams of pleasure and pride ;
Let the dreams disperse like a bubble,
So the toil like a dream subside.

Vain toil! men better and braver
Rose early and rested late,
Whose burdens than ours were graver,
And sterner than ours their hate.
What fair reward had Achilles ?
What rest could Alcides win ?
Vain toil ! 'Consider the lilies,
They toil not, neither do spin.'

Nor for mortal toiling nor spinning
Will the matters of mortals mend ;
As it was so in the beginning,
It shall be so in the end.
The web that the weavers weave ill
Shall not be woven aright
Till the good is brought forth from evil,
As day is brought forth from night.

Vain dreams! for our fathers cherish'd
High hopes in the days that were ;
And these men wonder'd and perish'd,
Nor better than these we fare ;
And our due at least is their due :
They fought against odds and fell ;
'En avant, les enfants perdus !'
We fight against odds as well.

The skies ! Will the great skies care for
Our footsteps, straighten our path,
Or strengthen our weakness ? Wherefore ?
We have rather incurr'd their wrath ;
When against the Captain of Hazor
The stars in their courses fought,
Did the sky shed merciful rays, or
With love was the sunshine fraught ?

Can they favour man—can they wrong man—
The unapproachable skies ?
Though these gave strength to the strong man,
And wisdom gave to the wise ;
When strength is turn'd to derision,
And wisdom brought to dismay,
Shall we wake from a troubled vision,
Or rest from a toilsome day ?

Nay ! I cannot tell. Peradventure
Our very toil is a dream,
And the works that we praise or censure,
It may be, they only seem.
If so, I would fain awaken,
Or sleep more soundly than so,
Or by dreamless sleep overtaken,
The dream I would fain forgo.

For the great things of life are small things,
The longest life is a span,
And there is an end to all things,
A season to every man,
Whose glory is dust and ashes,
Whose spirit is but a spark,
That out from the darkness flashes,
And flickers out in the dark.

We remember the pangs that wrung us
When some went down to the pit,
Who faded as leaves among us,
Who flitted as shadows flit ;
What visions under the stone lie ?
What dreams in the shroud sleep dwell,
For we saw the earth pit only,
And we heard only the knell.

We know not whether they slumber
Who waken on earth no more,
As the stars of the heights in number,
As sands on the deep sea-shore.
Shall stiffness bind them, and starkness
Enthral them, by field and flood,
Till 'the sun shall be turn'd to darkness,
And the moon shall be turn'd to blood ?'

We know not !—worse may enthral men—
'The wages of sin are death' ;
And so death pass'd upon all men,
For sin was born with man's breath.
Then the labourer spent with sinning,
His hire with his life shall spend ;
For it was so in the beginning,
And shall be so in the end.

There is life in the blacken'd ember
While a spark is smouldering yet ;
In a dream e'en now I remember
That dream I had lief forget—
I had lief forget, I had e'en lief
That dream with this doubt should die—
'If we did these things in the green leaf,
What shall be done in the dry ?'

poem by Adam Lindsay Gordon
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Related quotes

What Do You Dream About?

Have you ever met anybody who does not dream?
All of us have dreamt of something good or bad before
Some dreams are believed to foretell the future
While few dreams remind us of things we have forgotten
Other dreams are just hallucination and nightmare
What do you dream about?
Some people dream every night
While the others dream once a while
Do you dream straight or opposite?
To dream straight is to see a vision
To dream straight is to have a revelation
Is your dream good, bad or frightening?
Has your dream ever come true?
Do you day-dream or dream while you sleep?
What do you really dream about?
Politicians dream of winning elections
Students dream of passing exams
Soldiers dream of winning battles
Everybody dreams of promotion on the job
Fishermen dream of catching lots of fishes
Some men see their future wives in a vision
Few women see their future husbands in a dream
Almost everybody dreams of winning the lottery
What do you actually dream about?
Many see their enemies in a dream
Few see their true friends in a vision
Others found solutions to their problems in a dream
Can we live on earth without dreaming?
Your answer is as good as mine
Whatever you may dream about
I hope your good dreams come true

poem by Julius Babarinsa
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The dreams

Two dreams came down to earth one night
From the realm of mist and dew;
One was a dream of the old, old days,
And one was a dream of the new.

One was a dream of a shady lane
That led to the pickerel pond
Where the willows and rushes bowed themselves
To the brown old hills beyond.

And the people that peopled the old-time dream
Were pleasant and fair to see,
And the dreamer he walked with them again
As often of old walked he.

Oh, cool was the wind in the shady lane
That tangled his curly hair!
Oh, sweet was the music the robins made
To the springtime everywhere!

Was it the dew the dream had brought
From yonder midnight skies,
Or was it tears from the dear, dead years
That lay in the dreamer's eyes?

The other dream ran fast and free,
As the moon benignly shed
Her golden grace on the smiling face
In the little trundle-bed.

For 't was a dream of times to come--
Of the glorious noon of day--
Of the summer that follows the careless spring
When the child is done with play.

And 't was a dream of the busy world
Where valorous deeds are done;
Of battles fought in the cause of right,
And of victories nobly won.

It breathed no breath of the dear old home
And the quiet joys of youth;
It gave no glimpse of the good old friends
Or the old-time faith and truth.

But 't was a dream of youthful hopes,
And fast and free it ran,
And it told to a little sleeping child
Of a boy become a man!

These were the dreams that came one night
To earth from yonder sky;
These were the dreams two dreamers dreamed--
My little boy and I.

And in our hearts my boy and I
Were glad that it was so;
He loved to dream of days to come,
And I of long ago.

So from our dreams my boy and I
Unwillingly awoke,
But neither of his precious dream
Unto the other spoke.

Yet of the love we bore those dreams
Gave each his tender sign;
For there was triumph in his eyes--
And there were tears in mine!

poem by Eugene Field
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Dream Dream Dream

Dream dream dream
And dream untill dream come true
Life is nothing but dreams
Some accomplished, some unfinished
Some dreams are trifle, some cherished

You are nothing but a result of dreams
Dreams, dreams and nothing but dreams
A dream of someone
Or a dream of your own

Dream is not what you dream while asleep
Dream is what that don't let you sleep
You live for dream
And you die for dream
Your unattained desires are dreams
What you all desire are dreams

You can't accomplished unless you dream
What you accomplished was a dream
The law of attraction and power of passion
All say dream, dream and dream

{Published in Annual Magazine of NOSPLAN- Organisation of the Students of Planning in January,2012 by the same poet.}

poem by Shashikant Nishant Sharma
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Dreams

A DREAM of lilies: all the blooming earth,
A garden full of fairies and of flowers;
Its only music the glad cry of mirth,
While the warm sun weaves golden-tissued hours;
Hope a bright angel, beautiful and true
As Truth herself, and life a lovely toy,
Which ne'er will weary us, ne'er break, a new
Eternal source of pleasure and of joy.

A dream of roses: vision of Loves tree,
Of beauty and of madness, and as bright
As naught on earth save only dreams can be,
Made fair and odorous with flower and light;
A dream that Love is strong to outlast Time,
That hearts are stronger than forgetfulness,
The slippery sand than changeful waves that climb,
The wind-blown foam than mighty waters' stress.

A dream of laurels: after much is gone,
Much buried, much lamented, much forgot,
With what remains to do and what is done,
With what yet is, and what, alas! is not,
Man dreams a dream of laurel and of bays,
A dream of crowns and guerdons and rewards,
Wherein sounds sweet the hollow voice of praise,
And bright appears the wreath that it awards.

A dream of poppies, sad and true as Truth,—
That all these dreams were dreams of vanity;
And full of bitter penitence and ruth,
In his last dream, man deems 'twere good to die;
And weeping o'er the visions vain of yore,
In the sad vigils he doth nightly keep,
He dreams it may be good to dream no more,
And life has nothing like Death's dreamless sleep.

poem by Emma Lazarus
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My Lullaby (Song)

Close your eyes
Go to sleep.
Find your soul
In arms I'll keep
Dream you Little dark Dream
In your eyes
There's a glow
See your dreams
Now you know
Dream you Little dark Dreams
See your dreams
Come alive
Watch them dance
Through your eyes
Dream you Little dark Dreams
Coming now into eternal
Slumber, Sleep your Life's infernal
Lies called dreams within our sorrow
Never waking for tomorrow
Bow your head
Lay on down
Wipe your tears
Do not frown
Dream Dream Dream Dream Dream Dream
Dream you Little dark Dreams
Tonight.

poem by Sans Serif
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Dreams and Dreamers

No one exists
With out experience
Of the dream.

Nature also has the experience
Of dreams.

The rainbow is
Dream of clouds,
Twinkling stars are
Dreams of the night,
Flowers are
Dreams of the earth,
Moon is
Dream of the sun,
Woman is
Dream of a man,

Smile is
Dream of the tears,

Poetry is
Dream of the words,
False is
Dream of the truth,

Human is
Dream of the God,
Dream of human is
Dream of the dreams!

Dream,
It is a display of sight (view)
In closed eyes,
Action of the sleep
And riddle of the slumber, (deep sleep)
Solitude of the seclusion,
Mirror of the wounds,
Mumble of the mind,
Windows of the paradise,
Language of an individual
Les’ understood by himself,

Dream is a
Modern poetry
Has no syllable and meter,
Dream is a
Divine power of human, (desolation, super natural, forlorn)
Dream is not a myth
But it is a naked truth,

Dream is a secret room
Of an individual
He rest there
With his genuine face,

Dream is
Incubator of a man,
Dream is wings
Of an individual,
Dream is
A lighthouse of man
Dreams are
Colors of a man
To glorify his
Black and white life;

Let all of us praise for men
Who love the dreams,
And we express
Our sympathy to all men
who live in dreams too….

(Aalaabanai by Kaviko-In Tamizh)

poem by anushmadhu P.Bharathi
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Dreamz

what is a dream if you cant achieve it
what is a dream if you dont believe it
i want my dreams to all come true
i want my dreams to be shared with you
a dream is a place of magical things
a dream is a place where bluebirds sing
all our dreams we are longing for
a dream of you that i adore
why is dreams all filled with joy
when after a dream it is destroyed
why is dreams of something we cant have
when we dream of the things we once had
dreams come with so many meanings
happy and sad so many feelings
so why do we dream if it hurts inside
when we watch our dreams all fade and die
if i was a dream id fly away
id dream of happiness and make it stay
what is a dream with no ending
why do dreams start descending
what is a dream that aint complete
why are dreams so discreet
dreams are full of many things
dreams are full of true feelings
believe in dreams and youll succeed
believe in dreams yes i do indeed

poem by Mitchell Nott
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Dream On

Dream on baby, dream on
They might never seem to come true,
But dream on, baby, dream on.
Cause you never know when one will find you.

Dream on baby, dream on.
Though the critics and sceptics cry,
Dream on you will, baby, dream on.
Cause one day you'll be waving them goodbye.

Dream on baby, dream on,
There's a reason that we have dreams.
Dream on baby, dream on.
You'll catch some dreams, though far away they seem.

Dream on, baby, dream on.
No, you probably won't get every one,
But isn't that what dreams are for?
Dreams, they propel us to leap out and have fun.

Dreams, where we run to who-knows-where,
Where we do things we can only imagine.
Dreams, where we find solace in times of despair:
Where ordinary men become legends.

Dreams breath life into our bodies,
Give us purpose in our life, carry us on,
Carry us on through the toughest time,
When all glimmer of hope is gone.

So shut your door, tuck yourself in,
Turn out the lights, and dream away.
Life's tough, now's time to escape awhile.
Time to dream about a happier day.

Dream on, baby, dream on.
Dreams come true,
So dream on.
One day, they'll find you.

poem by Joses Tirtabudi
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A Sleep of Dreams

Travelled road ~ rough and worn
I've walked with ease on many morn
Down your path of known delights
I've trodden through on many nights
To sleep a dreamless sleep

My footsteps echo not within
Within the paths where I have been
Oh, how I crave my soul's respite
To dream of life within this night
To sleep a sleep of dreams

Oh, travelled road ~ you're all I've known
But fever deep inside has grown
To walk the walk that others might
And realize a dream tonight
To sleep a sleep of dreams

This trodden path is worn and long
Each day does bring a seasoned song
That's sung till light has turned to night
And dulls the life with no delight
To sleep a dreamless sleep

I see a field of emerald green
No foot has passed ~ nor ever been
Down unseen path toward dawning light
I'll stay until the sweetest night
To sleep my sleep of dreams....

poem by Hazelmarie Elliott
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I Dream, Do You

Do you have dreams, Well I do
I dream of wonderful things
I dream of things yet to come
I dream of things some may say is dumb
I dream of love not just the word I mean real love
I dream of of a place where there is no war
I dream of a good answer to what we fight for
I dream of floating in the clouds free with no worry
I dream of a president who can just say sorry
I dream of reading a book thats begins with 'what is hate'
I dream of a country, thats completely great
I dream of life beyond the one we live today
I dream of a time when all kids do is learn and play
Ok time to wake up to reality
I was loving my dream now im mad at me for waking up
Life here in the real world can be so crazy
I guess the bigger part of me wishes I was stil a baby
Some of my dreams may come true
I know thats not true and so do you
But I will continue to believe my dream will come true
Because my dream was so wonderful, so I shared it with you
LOL

poem by Daniel Chapman
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Do you have dreams?

poem by Cheyanne Whien
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Go Back To Your Dream

Dreaming of dreams
Some times you dream but some times you don’t
What happens in your dreams?
Some know and some don’t
You may wake up from your dream and try to go back
Many may try but not all can relapse
But for those who don’t know
To dream of a dream it is easy to go back
Visions in your mined that your brain bring up
So I dream and wake up
And can’t remember what my brain brought up
Only but few that I could remember I would lay down at night
And think of my few
I chose but one and think clearly through the night
I fall asleep to dream of a dream

And after the night the sun had come up
I had recalled the dream of a dream
Simple as thought
Just to lay in bad and think of my dream
and be for it had been told I had my dream of a dream

poem by Jacob Pettey
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Collection Of Short Poems

MEANINGLESS
I looked into my soul
And saw a great emptiness that enswallowed me.
It was strange and it was dark.
A darkness so vast I fall into it.
Terrified, my heart froze
As fear’s ice hands griped it.
Big dreams and ambitions cut short by the shortness of life
My life now a black deep ocean to drown in
For this is now my fate for mine had being a vain pursuit for self.

DREAMS

The dreams,
These dreams that I dream when I sleep in my sleep.
Are so scary so dark that I awake to only find
That am trapped in the dusty dream of dreaminglessness.

Am lost like a codeless soul flowing in space.
Like a fading painting I evaporate losing myself in the mystic shadows of life.

I don’t know me;
I don’t feel me,
Am I dreaming or is this real?

The dreams,
These dreams that I dream when I sleep in my sleep.
These dreams that I dream are when my eyes are closed yet open
Are not for the faint hearted,
The dreams.

MIRROR, MIRROR, MIRROR

Internal reflections of my soul
Looking deep where I have never being before
I stand mouth agap at the images I see below.

Distorted images,
I can’t see me.
Is the mirror broken or is it the state f my soul?

Mirror, mirror, mirror!
Is there any hope at all?
Tell me now for I fear that I have completely lost my way.
Mirror…?

poem by Tigana Chileshe
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They say dreams never do come true.

They say dreams never do come true..
But they are wrong, I say they do
I dream of violence, I dream of hurt
I dream of children, they live in dirt
I dream of you, I dream of me
I dream of how this was never meant to be
I dream of my feelings, I dream of my thoughts
I dream of these things, I dream of them lots
I dream of my loved ones, I dream of the dead
I dream of these thoughts, exploding my head
I dream of you yelling, I dream of you crying
I dream of you hiding, I dream of you lying
I dream of you hurting, I dream of you shutting me out of your life
I dream of the of the only one I can trust, I dream of my knife.
They say dreams never do come true,
But they are wrong, I say they do.

poem by Sylvi Hart
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They Say...

poem by Cheyanne Whien
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Dream A Little Dream For Me

At night when you think through your day
Think on the things that you did say
When you think through the things that you should be
Dream this little dream for me

Dream of blue skies forever
Dream that we are a worthy endeavor
Dream this one dream so you can see
Dream this little dream for me

The world fades but I'm still here
Still living for you
I'm sitting outside beneath the sky clear
Just enjoying your view

Sleep well until morning comes
Live with the passion of a thousand suns
Tell me all the things that you should be
And dream this little dream for me

Dream of you through my eyes
Dream though it may not be much of a surprise
That while you dream enjoying the view
I'm dreaming a little dream for you.

Yes, dreaming a dream for you!

poem by Jack Harris
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Ballade Of The Dream

Swift as sound of music fled
When no more the organ sighs,
Sped as all old days are sped,
So your lips, love, and your eyes,
So your gentle-voiced replies
Mine one hour in sleep that seem,
Rise and flit when slumber flies,
Following darkness like a dream!

Like the scent from roses red,
Like the dawn from golden skies,
Like the semblance of the dead
From the living love that hies,
Like the shifting shade that lies
On the moonlight-silvered stream,
So you rise when dreams arise,
Following darkness like a dream!

Could some spell, or sung or said,
Could some kindly witch and wise,
Lull for aye this dreaming head
In a mist of memories,
I would lie like him who lies
Where the lights on Latmos gleam, -
Wake not, find not Paradise
Following darkness like a dream!

ENVOY.

Sleep, that giv'st what Life denies,
Shadowy bounties and supreme,
Bring the dearest face that flies
Following darkness like a dream!

poem by Andrew Lang
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Dreams are dreams

One day in my sleep
I was dreaming in my dream
Dreaming in another dream
Dreaming in dreams
Went on and on
However, dreaming did not end
Till I woke up in the morning
Not to remember a single dream
I said to myself
What difference does it make?
If I do not remember
A single dream
Ultimately, dreams are dreams
Till they do not become reality
13-03-2012
361-95-03-12

poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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Dreaming Reality

In the real world, as in dreams,
Nothing is quite as it seems.
To see what we have never seen,
To be what we have never been,
To shed the chrysalis, learn to fly,
Depart the earth, kiss the sky,
To be reborn, be someone new,
Is this a dream or is it true?

Is my life in fact a dream?
Are things not always as they seem?
Are daylight hours reality,
Or do I dream eternally?
In the dream world or the real,
We cannot know what we can't feel.
What is not a dream by day,
Comes to us at night to stay.

Dreams - vivid colors of life,
Or fleeting, obscure, murky strife?
Façade of reality brings,
To the mind, exquisite things:
Love, regret, memories, cheer,
Imagination, even fear.
The lives we live appear, it seems,
To be a dream within a dream.
A long dream of hopeless sorrow,
I'll dream my life again tomorrow.

(27 February 2005)

poem by Richard Stamper
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Well We Might

There once was time to sit and spin
The dream without, the light within
When young ideals like creed and rote
Would wreathe their blue tobacco smoke.

When wine was certain at each sip
When answers leapt at every lip,
Such were the days, when we all knew
If we were asked, what we would do.

But life began to call us in
And time, as such, has grown so thin,
We rush to do the things we must
While dreams, ideals, are things of dust.

And soon we turn our backs on them
Those shadows that were once young men
Who never dreamt hypocrisy
Would spill their dreams, philosophy;

And rule them with a rod of steel
And teach them well how not to feel,
And lead them blindly through their days –
They spare no thought for younger ways.

And where that dream, ideal, that once
Was held to spell deliverance?
Well we might ask, and well we might;
It’s life, not death, puts out the light.

26 September 1986

poem by David Lewis Paget
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