Dream-Land
Where sunless rivers weep
Their waves into the deep
She sleeps a charmed sleep:
Awake her not.
Led by a single star,
She came from very far
To seek where shadows are
Her pleasant lot.
She left the rosy morn,
She left the fields of corn,
For twilight cold and lorn
And water springs.
Through sleep, as through a veil,
She sees the sky look pale,
And hears the nightingale
That sadly sings.
Rest, rest, a perfect rest
Shed over brow and breast;
Her face is toward the west,
The purple land.
She cannot see the grain
Ripening on hill and plain;
She cannot feel the rain
Upon her hand.
Rest, rest, for evermore
Upon a mossy shore;
Rest, rest at the heart's core
Till time shall cease:
Sleep that no pain shall wake;
Night that no morn shall break
Till joy shall overtake
Her perfect peace.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Dream Land
Where sunless rivers weep
Their waves into the deep,
She sleeps a charmed sleep:
Awake her not.
Led by a single star,
She came from very far
To seek where shadows are
Her pleasant lot.
She left the rosy morn,
She left the fields of corn,
For twilight cold and lorn
And water springs.
Through sleep, as through a veil,
She sees the sky look pale,
And hears the nightingale
That sadly sings.
Rest, rest, a perfect rest
Shed over brow and breast;
Her face is toward the west,
The purple land.
She cannot see the grain
Ripening on hill and plain;
She cannot feel the rain
Upon her hand.
Rest, rest, for evermore
Upon a mossy shore;
Rest, rest at the heart's core
Till time shall cease:
Sleep that no pain shall wake;
Night that no morn shall break
Till joy shall overtake
Her perfect peace.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti (1893)
Submitted by anonym
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Dark Air Dark Light
Where lifeless rivers weep
With shame, into the deep,
She sleeps a pained sleep:
Flows with rot.
killed by ugly progressing war,
She has lived so far
To live where darkness are
Alas! Sad lot.
She left the bright morn,
She passes meadows of corn,
For world sad and porn,
And dark springs.
Through dark like black veil,
She sees the sky, pale,
And hears the birds' mail,
That sadly sings.
Dark air and dark light,
Moves over bed and breast;
Her face is without rest,
Mothers only wasteland.
She lives with ugly pain,
Crossing over hill and plain,
You cannot feel the sail
Upon your hand.
Dark air and dark lore,
Upon stinking and thorny shore;
Rot, rot at every core
Till hunger shall cease:
Sleep that no sound shall cut;
Night that no morn shall shut,
Till all greed is met,
With perfect peace.
poem by Dr. Yogesh Sharma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Christmas Eve: 1872
Peace in the snowy breast,
O cloud from storm at rest!
Peace in the winds that sleep
Upon the deep.
Peace in the starry height:
Peace infinite,
Through all the worlds that move
Within His love.
O! all sad hearts, that be
On land or on the sea,
God’s peace with you rest light
This Christmas night!
And with the souls that stand
In that dear land
Where pain and all tears cease,
Most perfect peace!
poem by Ina D. Coolbrith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cope
She needed to sleep, sleep for a little,
to see him, feel him, hear him say.
Come lovely, come and rest your
head on my pillow, She had to rest,
rest of her own self, of her many
miseries that shattered her dreams.
But how to rest? or dream a sweet dream.
To wake up to an empty bed, with nothing
but his scent, his last touch, his last sleep,
his last words, and his last kisses. She adorned
her bed with broken sadness, dropping
her tears, and picking up more for the next day.
Her veins draining a river of pain. Her heart all
weary with multiple wounds. Her will refrained
from hope, her feelings with fears,
to love another man, and die all over again.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'll Sleep When I Am Dead
J. Bon Jovi, R. Sambora, D. Child)
Seven days of saturday
Is all that I need
Got no use for Sunday
'Cause I don't rest in peace
Don't need no Mondays
Or the rest of the week
I spend a lot of time in bed
But baby I don't like to sleep no
I won't lie to you
I'm necer gonna cry to you
I'll probably drive you wild 8 days a week
Until I'm 6 feet under
Baby I don't need a bed
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Till they roll me over
And lay my bones to rest
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
So you're looking for some action
I got got everything you need
Better keep your motor running
'cause I was built for speed
This ain't no slumber party
Got no time for catching z's
If they say that that ain't healthy
Well then living's a disease
We're never going to die baby
Come on let me drive you crazy
We'll make every night another New Year's Eve
Till I'm six feet under
I won't need a bed
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Till they roll me over
And lay my bones to rest
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Sleep when I'm dead, sleep when I'm dead
Gonna live while I'm alive,
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Seven days of Saturday
Is all that I need
Got no use for Sunday
'Cause I don't rest in peace
I was born to live
You know I wasn't born to die
But if they party down in heaven
I'll be sure to be on time
Until I'm six feet under
I don't need a bed
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Till they roll me over
And lay my bones to rest
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
I feel like I'm exploding
Going out of my head
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Till I'm six feet under
And they lay my bones to rest
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Sleep when I'm dead, sleep when I'm dead
Gonna live while I'm alive, sleep when I'm dead
song performed by by Bon Jovi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Fisherman's Baby
Oh hush, little baby, thy papa's at sea;
The big billows rock him as mamma rocks thee.
He hastes to his dear ones o'er billows of foam;
Then sleep, little darling, till papa comes home.
Sleep, little baby; hush, little baby;
Papa is coming, no longer to roam.
The shells and the pebbles, all day tossed about,
Are lulled into sleep by the tide ebbing out.
The tired shore slumbers, stretched out in the sand,
While the waves hurry off at mid-ocean's command.
Then hush, little darling; sleep, little darling;
Sleep, baby, rocked by thy mother's own hand.
The winds that have rollicked all day in the west
Are hushed into sleep on the calm evening's breast.
The boats that were out with the wild sea at play
Are now rocked to sleep in the arms of the bay.
Then rest, little baby; sleep, little baby;
Papa will come at the break of the day.
Sleep, little darling; too soon thou wilt be
A man like thy father, to sail o'er the sea.
Then sleep will not come at thy bidding or prayer,
For thou wilt be harassed by danger and care.
Then sleep, little darling; rest, little baby;
Rest whilst thou may, dear, and sleep whilst thou dare.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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When Am I Going To Rest
When am I going to rest?
When I'm going to fetch water
You are on my back
When I'm going to fetch firewood
You are on my back
Oh! When am I going to rest?
When am I going to rest?
When I want to rest
You are on my breast
Suckling like a calf
Yet you have little sharpened teeth
I can even scream if you bite my breast.
All you know is to wee wee, eat and cry
Without giving me time to rest
To my breast
You are the pest
Applying pepper might be a pest control
But still I will not rest
Because there is much to do for you
Perhaps death will be my rest.
poem by Walani Ndhlovu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Good Night
Close now thine eyes and rest secure;
Thy soul is safe enough, thy body sure;
He that loves thee, He that keeps
And guards thee, never slumbers, never sleeps.
The smiling conscience in a sleeping breast
Has only peace, has only rest;
The music and the mirth of kings
Are all but very discords, when she sings;
Then close thine eyes and rest secure;
No sleep so sweet as thine, no rest so sure.
poem by Francis Quarles
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ill Sleep When Im Dead
Seven days of saturday
Is all that I need
Got no use for sunday
cause I dont rest in peace
Dont need no mondays
Or the rest of the week
I spend a lot of time in bed
But baby I dont like to sleep no
I wont lie to you
Im never gonna cry to you
Ill probably drive you wild 8 days a week
Until Im 6 feet under
Baby I dont need a bed
Gonna live while Im alive
Ill sleep when Im dead
Till they roll me over
And lay my bones to rest
Gonna live while Im alive
Ill sleep when Im dead
So youre looking for some action
I got got everything you need
Better keep your motor running
cause I was built for speed
This aint no slumber party
Got no time for catching zs
If they say that that aint healthy
Well then livings a disease
Were never going to die baby
Come on let me drive you crazy
Well make every night another new years eve
Till Im six feet under
I wont need a bed
Gonna live while Im alive
Ill sleep when Im dead
Till they roll me over
And lay my bones to rest
Gonna live while Im alive
Ill sleep when Im dead
Sleep when Im dead, sleep when Im dead
Gonna live while Im alive,
Ill sleep when Im dead
Seven days of saturday
Is all that I need
Got no use for sunday
cause I dont rest in peace
I was born to live
You know I wasnt born to die
But if they party down in heaven
Ill be sure to be on time
Until Im six feet under
I dont need a bed
Gonna live while Im alive
Ill sleep when Im dead
Till they roll me over
And lay my bones to rest
Gonna live while Im alive
Ill sleep when Im dead
I feel like Im exploding
Going out of my head
Gonna live while Im alive
Ill sleep when Im dead
Till Im six feet under
And they lay my bones to rest
Gonna live while Im alive
Ill sleep when Im dead
Sleep when Im dead, sleep when Im dead
Gonna live while Im alive, sleep when Im dead
song performed by by Bon Jovi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sweet And Low
Sweet and low, sweet and low,
Wind of the western sea,
Low, low, breathe and blow,
Wind of the western sea!
Over the rolling waters go,
Come from the dying moon, and blow,
Blow him again to me;
While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps.
Sleep and rest, sleep and rest,
Father will come to thee soon;
Rest, rest, on mother's breast,
Father will come to thee soon;
Father will come to his babe in the best,
Silver sails all out of the west,
Under the silver moon:
Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Drought
For rain, for rain the parched lands cry,
Reproachful to the cloudless sky.
The hot white fields in light are blinking,
The rivers in their beds are shrinking.
For rest, for rest the weary cry
That watch from dark to dawn the sky;
A little sleep their limbs are craving,
A little rest from ceaseless raving.
God gives in His good time the rain,
And sends the sick man peace for pain;
But while we wait His gracious sending,
Alas! the sad days seem unending.
Yet, when the evening comes, the dew
Brings to the fields a fragrance new;
And loving smiles at day’s returning
Will soothe awhile the sick man’s yearning.
poem by Francis William Bourdillon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Dreamless Sleep
Sleep now beloved the dreamless sleep,
Lost forever to this sphere.
Never to awaken from the abyss so deep,
Or to see the ones that you held dear.
Sleep now and rest your weary head,
Thy time of rest is nigh.
You look so peaceful in your bed,
No rising chest no heartfelt sigh.
Sleep now beloved the dreamless sleep,
Nothing shall disturb thy rest.
Sowing of ages you now will reap,
Embarking on your timeless quest.
9/9/12 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Autopilot
I can sleep, but I won't rest
I'll try to rest, but I'll only sleep
My dreams were once my escape
My nights held my happy days
Awake, I was depresed
Alseep, I had energy
I'd cry myself to sleep
Then I'd cry no more
Spreading my wings
I'd laugh under night's sun
Flying around the world
I'd make a hundred friends
Throwing fire and ice
I'd defeat all my enemies
Then I would wake up
And happiness fled
Walking through autopilot
In a world that wasn't real
Looking but never seeing
I'd cry under day's moon
Existing but never living
I'd avoid everyone
Closing my eyes
I'd hide from any enemies
I once rested
In the chaos of my dreams
The loud sleeping happiness
Was better than the quiet waking sadness
But things have changed
In a moment, a lifetime
Awake, I am content
Asleep, I am upset
If I sleep, I dream
When I dream, I fear
Running in terror
Crying in death
I see faces unkown
And know pain unfelt
I once looked for sleep to find rest
Now I avoid sleep so not to lose rest
My heaven became my hell
My hallucination became my shelter
I do not sleep, I do not rest
Tired, but I am happy
A new kind of autopilot
Which existance is worse?
Awake, I fear sleep coming
Asleep, I cannot wake
Never resting, only existing
Life on autopilot
poem by Juvela Obi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lullaby, Go To Sleep
I'll ne'er forget the day,
When I was young and gay,
A rolling 'round the floor in Tennessee;
From th' cotton field so white,
My ma would come at night,
And fondly hold me in her arms and say:
Go to sleep, baby mine,
Little birdie in your nest;
Humming bees have left the vine,
Go to sleep and take your rest.
In winter cold and chill,
At night, when all was still,
I'd wake to find her standing over me,
A smile upon her face,
A creepin 'round the place,
She'd tuck the cover over me, and sing:
Go to sleep, baby mine,
Little birdie in your nest;
Humming bees have left the vine,
Go to sleep and take your rest.
So many years have passed,
Since we assembled last,
That dear old soul has gone away to dwell.
If this whole world was mine,
The wealth I would decline,
If I could only hear my mother sing:
Go to sleep, baby mine,
Little birdie in your nest;
Humming bees have left the vine,
Go to sleep and take your rest.
poem by James Ephraim McGirt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nice to Be Winter
It must be nice to follow fall
Rest, my babies, rest
To blanch the landscape, trees and all
Rest, my babies, rest
To still the flies and honey bees
Blowing snow in swirling wreathes
And comb the pines with a frozen breeze
To ice the waves which rule the seas
It must be nice to be winter
It must be nice to sew for spring
Sleep, my babies, sleep
Soon to melt from everything
Sleep, my babies, sleep
To brighten night with a moonlit glare
The might of slumber’s quiet fare
And whistle whispers in the air
To cure the world of summer’s ware
It must be nice to be winter
poem by Kimberley Myles
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sleep
I close my eyes and I try to sleep
But I cannot, so I begin to weep
As I am so tired and so very weak
Rest and solitude is all that I seek,
I wish to close my eyes and find that peace
That moment of time when worries will cease
But when I close my eyes I am still awake
Sleep for me, it did forsake,
I need so dearly to enter into a dream
But I cannot, so at the walls I do scream
I am so weary and so very tired
My sleep and rest are both desired,
Tossing and turning still upon my bed
As fatigue and worries still enters my head
Upon my bed I wish I was peacefully lying
Instead of tossing and turning and sadly crying,
Again and again I try my best to find that sleep
I take pills and I even try to count sheep
But every time I dose off my quest it fails
Another bit of madness and more pills then entails,
My thoughts now no longer speak to my brain
I have no energy I feel the slow drain
I remember the words that my friends have said
That I will find that sleep, when I am dead.
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Did You Rest, Last Night?
'How did you rest, last night?'--
I've heard my gran'pap say
Them words a thousand times--that's right--
Jes them words thataway!
As punctchul-like as morning dast
To ever heave in sight
Gran'pap 'ud allus haf to ast--
'How did you rest, last night?'
Us young-uns used to grin,
At breakfast, on the sly,
And mock the wobble of his chin
And eyebrows belt so high
And kind: _'How did you rest, last night?'_
We'd mumble and let on
Our voices trimbled, and our sight
Was dim, and hearin' gone.
* * * * *
Bad as I used to be,
All I'm a-wantin' is
As puore and ca'm a sleep fer me
And sweet a sleep as his!
And so I pray, on Jedgment Day
To wake, and with its light
See _his_ face dawn, and hear him say--
'How did you rest, last night?'
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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First day
I see you found my underground
Help yourself to guns and ammo
Nothing here has ever seen the light of day
I leave it in my head
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
You'll remember me, for the rest of your life
You'll remember me, for the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
You'll remember me, for the rest of your life
You'll remember me, for the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
song performed by by Brian Molko, music by Timo Maas
Submitted by Simona Enache
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The Promise of Sleep
Put the sweet thoughts from out thy mind,
The dreams from out thy breast;
No joy for thee--but thou shalt find
Thy rest
All day I could not work for woe,
I could not work nor rest;
The trouble drove me to and fro,
Like a leaf on the storm's breast.
Night came and saw my sorrow cease;
Sleep in the chamber stole;
Peace crept about my limbs, and peace
Fell on my stormy soul.
And now I think of only this,--
How I again may woo
The gentle sleep-- who promises
That death is gentle too.
Rest In Peace! (for fun poem)
Rest in Peace!
its a joke? ? ? Who knows?
I know, with all my diggings!
Dead for thousands times
and no one single rest
So well buried but not finally dead
Sorry if i disappointed!
this time with a bouquet of black flowers
To put on your perfect grave!
Rest in peace!
ha, ha, ha
poem by Mirna Morgan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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