English poetry

Poets Х Biographies Х Poems by Themes Х Random Poem Х
The Rating of Poets Х The Rating of Poems

Poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

I Dream

Oh, I have dreams. I sometimes dream of Life
   In the full meaning of that splendid word.
   Its subtle music which few men have heard,
Though all may hear it, sounding through earthТs strife.
Its mountain heights by mystic breezes kissed
   Lifting their lovely peaks above the dust;
   Its treasures which no touch of time can rust,
Its emerald seas, its dawns of amethyst,
   Its certain purpose, its serene repose,
   Its usefulness, that finds no hour for woes,
      This is my dream of Life.

Yes, I have dreams. I ofttimes dream of Love
   As radiant and brilliant as a star.
   As changeless, too, as that fixed light afar
Which glorifies vast worlds of space above.
Strong as the tempest when it holds its breath,
   Before it bursts in fury; and as deep
   As the unfathomed seas, where lost worlds sleep,
And sad as birth, and beautiful as death.
   As fervent as the fondest soul could crave,
   Yet holy as the moonlight on a grave.
      This is my dream of Love.

Yes, yes, I dream. One oft-recurring dream
   Is beautiful and comforting and blest,
   Complete with certain promises of rest,
Divine content, and ecstasy supreme.
When that strange essence, author of all faith,
   That subtle something, which cries for the light,
   Like a lost child who wanders in the night,
Shall solve the mighty mystery of Death,
   Shall find eternal progress, or sublime
   And satisfying slumber for all time.
      This is my dream of Death.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Ella Wheeler Wilcox's other poems:
  1. The Birth of the Opal
  2. The Awakening (I love the tropics, where sun and rain)
  3. The Chain
  4. At Forty-Eight
  5. Intermediary

Poem to print Print


Last Poems

To Russian version


English Poetry. E-mail eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru