BRING not your dreams to me -- Blown dust, and vapour, and the running stream -- Saying, "He, too, doth dream, Touched of the moon." Nay! wouldst thou vanish see Thy darling phantoms, Bring them then to me! For my hard business -- though so soft it seems -- Was ever dreams and dreams. And as some stern-eyed broker smiles disdain, Valuing at nought Her bosom's locket, with its little chain, Love's all that Love hath brought; So must I weigh and measure Thy fading treasure, Sighing to see it go As surely as the snow. For I have such sad knowledge of all things That shine like dew a little, all that sings And ends its song in weeping -- Such sowing and such reaping! -- There is no cure but sleeping. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AGAMEMNON: THE PURPLE CARPER by AESCHYLUS IN AN OLD CEMETERY by LILLAH A. ASHLEY PLORATA VERIS LACHRYMIS by WILLIAM BARNES THE BLACKBIRD by WILLIAM BARNES TREES ON THE CALAIS ROAD by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE SHAD SPIRIT by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD |