All night I dream of that which cannot be: And early in the morning I awake My whole heart saddened for a vision's sake. I in my sleep have joy; but woe is me! Thro' the long day the shadowy pleasures flee And are not: wherefore I would gladly take Some warm and poppied potion that might make My slumbers long which pass so pleasantly. And if I slept and never woke again, But dreamed on with a happy consciousness Of grass and flowers and perfect rest from pain, I would leave hope a thousand times found vain, And own a twilight solitude doth bless Shut in from cold and wind and storm of rain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WAITER IN A CALIFORNIA VIETNAMESE RESTURANT by CLARENCE MAJOR DOMESDAY BOOK: JANE FISHER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS VIGNETTES OVERSEAS: 4. CAPRI by SARA TEASDALE HUGH SELWYN MAUBERLEY: 5 by EZRA POUND A ROCKING HYMN by GEORGE WITHER THE LAST MAN: SUBTERRANEAN CITY by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |