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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
IMAGES OF MY DREAMS, by PAUL FORT
First Line: The wooded hill overshades the river's placid brim and in its tranquil
Last Line: Cloud-wrack grim. . . . And still more images will come, alas, to die!
Subject(s): Dreams; Sailing & Sailors; Nightmares; Seamen; Sails
First Line: The wooded hill overshades the river's placid brim and in its tranquil
Last Line: Cloud-wrack grim. . . . And still more images will come, alas, to die!
Subject(s): Dreams; Sailing & Sailors; Nightmares; Seamen; Sails
The wooded hill o'ershades the river's placid brim and in its tranquil depths
still further slopes one sees. The dusky half reflects a forest, green and dim,
its azure counterpart, the clouds' profundities.
Here sails the little skiff of cloudy pearl, and there, not far removed, a raft
of branches slowly rides. . . . Sudden beneath my eyes the surges of a weir
whelm sail and raft. Dull mist the troubled mirror hides.
Images of my dreams, is this your shipwreck drear, raft, wandering sail, to find
your harbor in the wave, black vision, vision blue, broken upon the weir, by
foaming billows drowned and mingled in the grave?
The wooded-hill o'ershades the river's placid brim. On the other bank gold
buttercups sway. In the stormy sky cold lightning-flashes pierce the gathering
cloud-wrack grim. . . . And still more images will come, alas, to die!
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TOM BOWLING ['S EPITAPH] by CHARLES DIBDIN
HOW'S MY BOY? by SYDNEY THOMPSON DOBELL
LOVE AT SEA by THEOPHILE GAUTIER
A PORTFOLIO OF SKETCHES: THE LITTLE ANNUITANT by PAUL FORT