Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE DREAMING CHILD, by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE DREAMING CHILD, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: And is there sadness in thy dreams, my boy?
Last Line: Start from the dream-like wilderness of life?
Alternate Author Name(s): Browne, Felicia Dorothea
Subject(s): Children; Dreams; Childhood; Nightmares


AND is there sadness in thy dreams, my boy?
What should the cloud be made of? -- blessed child!
Thy spirit, borne upon a breeze of joy,
All day hath ranged through sunshine, clear, yet mild.

And now thou tremblest! -- wherefore? -- in thy soul
There lies no past, no future. Thou hast heard
No sound of presage from the distance roll,
Thy heart bears traces of no arrowy word.

From thee no love hath gone; thy mind's young eye
Hath looked not into death's, and thence become
A questioner of mute eternity,
A weary searcher for a viewless home:

Nor hath thy sense been quickened unto pain,
By feverish watching for some step beloved;
Free are thy thoughts, an ever-changeful train,
Glancing like dew-drops, and as lightly moved.

Yet now, on billows of strange passion tossed,
How art thou wildered in the cave of sleep!
My gentle child! 'midst what dim phantoms lost,
Thus in mysterious anguish dost thou weep?

Awake! they sadden me -- those early tears,
First gushings of the strong dark river's flow,
That must o'ersweep thy soul with coming years,
The unfathomable flood of human woe!

Awful to watch, even rolling through a dream,
Forcing wild spray-drops but from childhood's eyes!
Wake, wake! as yet thy life's transparent stream
Should wear the tinge of none but summer skies.

Come from the shadow of those realms unknown,
Where now thy thoughts dismayed and darkling rove;
Come to the kindly region all thine own,
The home, still bright for thee with guardian love.

Happy, fair child! that yet a mother's voice
Can win thee back from visionary strife!
Oh, shall my soul, thus wakened to rejoice,
Start from the dream-like wilderness of life?





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