Twas Summer
'Twas summer,-- through the opening grass
The joyous flowers upsprang,
The birds in all their different tribes
Loud in the woodlands sang:
Then forth I went, and wandered far
The wide green meadow o'er;
Where cool and clear the fountain play'd,
There strayed I in that hour.
Roaming on, the nightingale
Sang sweetly in my ear;
And, by the greenwood's shady side,
A dream came to me there;
Fast by the fountain, where bright flowers
Of sparkling hue we see,
Close sheltered from the summer heat,
That vision came to me.
All care was banished, and repose
Came o'er my wearied breast;
And kingdoms seemed to wait on me,
For I was with the blest.
Yet, while it seemed as if away
My spirit soared on high,
And in the boundless joys of heaven
Was wrapt in ecstacy,
E'en then, my body revelled still
In earth's festivity;
And surely never was a dream
So sweet as this to me.
Thus I dream'd on, and might have dwelt
Still on that rapturous dream,
When, hark! a raven's luckless note
(Sooth, 'twas a direful scream,)
Broke up the vision of delight,
Instant my joy was past:
O, had a stone but met my hand,
That hour had been his last....
poem by Walther von der Vogelweide
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One Summer Dream
Deep waters flow, out to the sea,
They never needed you or me.
One summer dream, one summer dream.
Blue mountains high and valley low,
I dont know which way I should go,
One summer dream, one summer dream.
Warm summer breeze blows endlessly,
Touching the hearts of those who feel,
One summer dream, one summer dream.
Bird on wing goes floating by,
But theres a teardrop in his eye,
One summer dream, one summer dream.
One summer dream, one summer dream.
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dream A While With Me
I dream of rainbows, Bright in the sky,
I dream of lightning, together we cry,
I dream of flowers, I feel such delight,
I dream of spiders, and I scream with fright,
I dream of fish, swimming in the sea,
I dream of sharks, coming after me,
I dream of lambs, frolicking around,
I dream of wolves, Hunting, no sound,
I dream of children, several of them ours,
I dream of them waking, Being up for hours,
Stay with me forever and together we’ll cope,
Because when I dream of you, I dream of hope,
Dream awhile with me and together we’ll see,
Not all dreams are bad, so dream along with me.
poem by Cathryn Martin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dream A While With Me
I dream of rainbows, Bright in the sky,
I dream of lightning, together we cry,
I dream of flowers, I feel such delight,
I dream of spiders, and I scream with fright,
I dream of fish, swimming in the sea,
I dream of sharks, coming after me,
I dream of lambs, frolicking around,
I dream of wolves, Hunting, no sound,
I dream of children, several of them ours,
I dream of them waking, Being up for hours,
Stay with me forever and together we'll cope,
Because when I dream of you, I dream of hope,
Dream awhile with me and together we'll see,
Not all dreams are bad, so dream along with me.
poem by Sydney Bell
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‘And ask ye why these sad tears stream?’
'And ask ye why these sad tears stream?'
‘Te somnia nostra reducunt.’
OVID.
And ask ye why these sad tears stream?
Why these wan eyes are dim with weeping?
I had a dream–a lovely dream,
Of her that in the grave is sleeping.
I saw her as ’twas yesterday,
The bloom upon her cheek still glowing;
And round her play’d a golden ray,
And on her brows were gay flowers blowing.
With angel-hand she swept a lyre,
A garland red with roses bound it;
Its strings were wreath’d with lambent fire
And amaranth was woven round it.
I saw her mid the realms of light,
In everlasting radiance gleaming;
Co-equal with the seraphs bright,
Mid thousand thousand angels beaming.
I strove to reach her, when, behold,
Those fairy forms of bliss Elysian,
And all that rich scene wrapt in gold,
Faded in air–a lovely vision!
And I awoke, but oh! to me
That waking hour was doubly weary;
And yet I could not envy thee,
Although so blest, and I so dreary.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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If You Can Dream
If you can dream,
Why don’t you dream
For a good family
Who can stay with us
In our peaceful home.
If you can dream,
Why don’t you dream
For a sweet song
Which fills in every one’s heart
The joy to share with people.
If you can dream,
Why don’t you dream
For the innocent creatures
They can get their world
To play in a melodious tune.
If you can dream,
Why don’t you dream
For the flowers
Which can spread all the hues
In poor’s eye.
If you can dream,
Why don’t you dream
For quiet moments
In which everybody can live
Peacefully to weave
A kind of bond among us.
If you can dream,
Why don’t you dream
For doing all the good deeds
Through which you can
Get the perfect rest.
If you can dream,
Why don’t you dream
For believing in maker
Who is holding our hand
In each and every moment.
If you can dream,
Why don’t you dream
For sacrificing your life
For those whose eyes
Searching you for help.
poem by Cheyanne Whien
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A Lost Dream
AH, I have changed, I do not know
Why lonely hours affect me so.
In days of yore, this were not wont,
No loneliness my soul could daunt.
For me too serious for my age,
The weighty tome of hoary sage,
Until with puzzled heart astir,
One God-giv'n night, I dreamed of her.
I loved no woman, hardly knew
More of the sex that strong men woo
Than cloistered monk within his cell;
But now the dream is lost, and hell
Holds me her captive tight and fast
Who prays and struggles for the past.
No living maid has charmed my eyes,
But now, my soul is wonder-wise.
For I have dreamed of her and seen
Her red-brown tresses, ruddy sheen,
Have known her sweetness, lip to lip,
The joy of her companionship.
When days were bleak and winds were rude,
She shared my smiling solitude,
And all the bare hills walked with me
To hearken winter's melody.
And when the spring came o'er the land
We fared together hand in hand
Beneath the linden's leafy screen
That waved above us faintly green.
In summer, by the river-side,
Our souls were kindred with the tide
That floated onward to the sea
As we swept toward Eternity.
The bird's call and the water's drone
Were all for us and us alone.
The water-fall that sang all night
Was her companion, my delight,
And e'en the squirrel, as he sped
Along the branches overhead,
Half kindly and half envious,
Would chatter at the joy of us.
'Twas but a dream, her face, her hair,
The spring-time sweet, the winter bare,
The summer when the woods we ranged, —
'Twas but a dream, but all is changed.
Yes, all is changed and all has fled,
The dream is broken, shattered, dead.
And yet, sometimes, I pray to know
How just a dream could hold me so.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Cold, clear, and blue the morning heaven
Cold, clear, and blue the morning heaven
Expands its arch on high;
Cold, clear, and blue Lake Werna's water
Reflects that winter sky:
The moon has set, but Venus shines,
A silent, silvery star.
Will the day be bright or cloudy?
Sweetly has its dawn begun;
But the heaveb may shake with thunder
Ere the settling sun.
Lady, watch Apollo's journey;
Thus thy first hour's course shall be;
If his beams through summer vapours
Warm the earth all placidly,
Her days shall pass like a pleasant dream in sweet tranquility.
If it darken, if a shadow
Quench his rays and summon rain,
Flowers may open, buds may blossom,
Bud and flower alike are vain;
Her days shall pass like a mournful story in care and tears and pain.
If the wind be fresh and free,
The wide skies clear and cloudless blue,
The woods and fields and golden flowers
Sparkling in sunshine and in dew,
Her days shall pass in Glory's light the world's drear desert through.
poem by Emily Brontë from The Complete Poems of Emily Brontë (1908)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I dream..
I dream of floating away on a cloud
I dream of catching a falling star
I dream of my prince charming
I dream of how I'll save him from the dragon
I dream of cows on the moon
And pink grass
I dream of old ladies knitting socks
I dream the twelve Olympians are real
I dream I'll meet them someday
I dream of vast sugar cane fields
I dream of a bed of roses
And how prickly that must be
I dream of firefly friends
I dream of a lighting bug show
I dream of riding a striped horse down the aisle
I dream of hot air balloons
I dream of polar bears
And penguins
I dream of snow
I dream of rain
I dream of summer
I dream of fall
I dream of day
And night
I dream of the moon
I dream of stars
I dream of going to Mars
I dream of how I'll be queen of the Martians
I dream of how I'll love my subjects
And people always said I belonged on another planet
I dream of love
I dream of faith
I dream of hope
I dream of culture
I dream of life
And I dream sweet dreams
poem by Sai Srujana
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My dear dream
Dream of sea,
Dream of ships,
Dream of huge ocean,
Dream of men in unifom
Its my dream, dream so different,
Dream so new, dream of dark sky up above,
Dream of sea so calm, dream of sea roaring,
Its my sweet dream.
Dream so sweet, wonderfull, special, close to my heart,
Its my sweet dream.
Dreaming to get my dreams happen.
Its my sweet dream.
poem by Anees Akbar
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My One Last Dream
One last dream of rejecting your protective arms...
One last dream of harm...
One last dream of never changing...
One last dream of never being held...
One last dream of no objection...
One last dream of a scarful you...
One last dream of no summer dew...
One last dream self injury...
One last dream of our own little theory...
One last dream of being six feet under soil...
One last dream of a lost soul...
One last dream of pulling a trigger...
One last dream of having a power that’s bigger...
One last dream of never needing help...
poem by Crystal Fuller
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The Recluse
A fountain issuing into light
Before a marble palace, threw
To heaven its column, pure and bright,
Returning thence in showers of dew;
But soon a humbler course it took,
And glide away a nameless brook.
Flowers on its grassy margin sprang,
Flies o'er its eddying surface play'd,
Birds 'midst the alder-branches sang,
Flocks through the verdant meadows stray'd;
The weary there lay down to rest,
And there the halcyon built her nest.
'Twas beautiful to stand and watch
The fountain's crystal turn to gems,
And from the sky such colours catch
As if 'twere raining diadems;
Yet all was cold and curious art,
That charm'd the eye, but miss'd the heart.
Dearer to me the little stream
Whose unimprison'd waters run,
Wild as the changes of a dream,
By rock and glen, through shade and sun.
Its lovely links had power to bind
In welcome chains my wandering mind.
So thought I when I saw the face
By happy portraiture reveal'd
Of one adorn'd with every grace,
Her name and date from me conceal'd,
But not her story; she had been
The pride of many a splendid scene.
She cast her glory round a court,
And frolick'd in the gayest ring,
Where fashion's high-born minions sport
Like sparkling fire-flies on the wing;
But thence when love had touch'd her soul,
To nature and to truth she stole.
From din, and pageantry, and strife,
'Midst woods and mountains, vales and plains,
She treads the paths of lowly life,
Yet in a bosom-circle reigns,
No fountain scattering diamond-showers,
But the sweet streamlet watering flowers.
poem by James Montgomery
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My Secret Garden
I dream of a secret garden
Filled with roses
And a bench that seats two
I dream of a majestic fountain
With sparkling water
That brings life to those near
I dream of a blue sky
That watches over
The beautiful creatures of my world
I dream a dream of romance
That warms you
In a cold, unsafe outside world
I dream this would be real
But I know
That this dream will stay dreamt
poem by John McClay
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The dream boy
The dream boy shall be nice,
the dream boy shall be sweet,
the dream boy shall be cute,
the dream boy must be funny.
Of course he must be tough,
of course he must be cute,
of course he must be smart,
and most definitly handsome.
The dream boy should pass me notes,
the dream boy should be clean,
the dream boy should be cool.
The dream boy can't be mean.
The dream boy can't be conceited.
The dream boy cannot lie.
The dream boy shall not gossip.
The dream boy shall not brag.
The dream boy shall not stalk.
The dream boy will be made.
But does such a dream boy exist?
poem by Jasmine Aira
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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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Dreams
Oh! that my young life were a lasting dream!
My spirit not awakening, till the beam
Of an Eternity should bring the morrow.
Yes! tho' that long dream were of hopeless sorrow,
'Twere better than the cold reality
Of waking life, to him whose heart must be,
And hath been still, upon the lovely earth,
A chaos of deep passion, from his birth.
But should it be- that dream eternally
Continuing- as dreams have been to me
In my young boyhood- should it thus be given,
'Twere folly still to hope for higher Heaven.
For I have revell'd, when the sun was bright
I' the summer sky, in dreams of living light
And loveliness,- have left my very heart
In climes of my imagining, apart
From mine own home, with beings that have been
Of mine own thought- what more could I have seen?
'Twas once- and only once- and the wild hour
From my remembrance shall not pass- some power
Or spell had bound me- 'twas the chilly wind
Came o'er me in the night, and left behind
Its image on my spirit- or the moon
Shone on my slumbers in her lofty noon
Too coldly- or the stars- howe'er it was
That dream was as that night-wind- let it pass.
I have been happy, tho' in a dream.
I have been happy- and I love the theme:
Dreams! in their vivid coloring of life,
As in that fleeting, shadowy, misty strife
Of semblance with reality, which brings
To the delirious eye, more lovely things
Of Paradise and Love- and all our own!
Than young Hope in his sunniest hour hath known.
poem by Edgar Allan Poe
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The Poet's Song
I HID in the world and sang,
And I sang so loud and long
That all the ages rang
With the music of my song.
I sang of the earth and sky,
5
I sang of the whispering seas,
I sang of the mountains high,
And I sang of the flowers and trees;
I sang of the early spring,
I sang of the dawning day,
10
I sang, for I had to sing
As the young lambs have to play;
Till heaven and earth were ringing,
And all the people heard,
And they said, "We love his singing,
15
For his song is the song of the bird."
poem by Frederick George Scott
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Dream
Dream
By: Adam M. Snow
I dream of her, and then I sever;
I dream of her now and forever.
Wrung ye not of dreams be seen,
Joyous past of hope between.
Misery held but a fiend, but a fiend;
Vision of her but a dream, but a dream.
But do I see her now or never;
Dream of her now and forever.
Dark despair around benights me;
Dreams of her, bestowed upon me.
Ne'er the day nor twilight fall;
One dignity adjourned for all-
A dream to come tomorrow's pass,
Each heavier than the last.
I dream of her, and then I sever;
I dream of her now and forever.
Wrung ye not of dreams be seen,
Joyous past of hope between.
Alas! Misery held but a fiend, but a fiend;
Vision of her but a dream, but a dream.
Arose ye not a dream to wander,
A world like this going yonder.
Dark despair around benights me;
Dreams of her, bestowed upon me.
Ev'ry dream it be of her;
Dream of her now and forever.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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Water-Party On The Beaulieu River, In The New Forest
I thought 'twas a toy of the fancy, a dream
That leads with illusion the senses astray,
And I sighed with delight as we stole down the stream,
While the sun, as he smiled on our sail, seemed to say,
Rejoice in my light, ere it fade fast away!
We left the loud rocking of ocean behind,
And stealing along the clear current serene,
The Phaedria spread her white sails to the wind,
And they who divided had many a day been,
Gazed with added delight on the charms of the scene.
Each bosom one spirit of peace seemed to feel;
We heard not the tossing, the stir, and the roar
Of the ocean without; we heard only the keel,
The keel that went whispering along the green shore,
And the stroke, as it dipped, of the feathering oar.
Beneath the dark woods now, as winding we go,
What sounds of rich harmony burst on the ear!
Hark, cheer'ly the loud-swelling clarionets blow;
Now the tones gently die, now more mellow we hear
The horns through the high forest echoing clear!
They cease; and no longer the echoes prolong
The swell of the concert; in silence we float--
In silence! Oh, listen! 'tis woman's sweet song--
The bends of the river reply to each note,
And the oar is held dripping and still from the boat.
Mark the sun that descends o'er the curve of the flood!
Seize, Wilmot, the pencil, and instant convey
To the tablet the water, the banks, and the wood,
That their colours may live without change or decay,
When these beautiful tints die in darkness away.
So when we are parted, and tossed on the deep,
And no longer the light on our prospect shall gleam,
The semblance of one lovely scene we may keep,
And remember the day, and the hour, like a dream,
When we sighed with delight as we stole down the stream!
poem by William Lisle Bowles
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To My Lady
When the tender hand of Night
Like a rose-leaf falls
Softly on your starry eyes;
When the Sleep-God calls,
And the gate of dreams is wide,
Wide the painted halls,
Dream the dream I send to you
Through your spirit’s walls!
Dream a lowly lover came,
Lady fair to woo;
Dream that I the lover was,
And the lady—you;
Dream your answer was a kiss,
Warm as summer dew—
Waking, in the rosy dawn,
Let the dream be true!
poem by Victor James Daley
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A Dream
I had a dream--a strange, wild dream--
Said a dear voice at early light;
And even yet its shadows seem
To linger in my waking sight.
Earth, green with spring, and fresh with dew,
And bright with morn, before me stood;
And airs just wakened softly blew
On the young blossoms of the wood.
Birds sang within the sprouting shade,
Bees hummed amid the whispering grass,
And children prattled as they played
Beside the rivulet's dimpling glass
Fast climbed the sun: the flowers were flown,
There played no children in the glen;
For some were gone, and some were grown
To blooming dames and bearded men.
'Twas noon, 'twas summer: I beheld
Woods darkening in the flush of day,
And that bright rivulet spread and swelled,
A mighty stream, with creek and bay.
And here was love, and there was strife,
And mirthful shouts, and wrathful cries,
And strong men, struggling as for life,
With knotted limbs and angry eyes.
Now stooped the sun--the shades grew thin;
The rustling paths were piled with leaves;
And sunburnt groups were gathering in,
From the shorn field, its fruits and sheaves.
The river heaved with sullen sounds;
The chilly wind was sad with moans;
Black hearses passed, and burial-grounds
Grew thick with monumental stones.
Still waned the day; the wind that chased
The jagged clouds blew chillier yet;
The woods were stripped, the fields were waste,
The wintry sun was near its set.
And of the young, and strong, and fair,
A lonely remnant, gray and weak,
Lingered, and shivered to the air
Of that bleak shore and water bleak.
Ah! age is drear, and death is cold!
I turned to thee, for thou wert near,
And saw thee withered, bowed, and old,
And woke all faint with sudden fear.
'Twas thus I heard the dreamer say,
And bade her clear her clouded brow;
'For thou and I, since childhood's day,
Have walked in such a dream till now.
'Watch we in calmness, as they rise,
The changes of that rapid dream,
And note its lessons, till our eyes
Shall open in the morning beam.'
poem by William Cullen Bryant
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