Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE IVORY GATE OF DREAMS, by CLAUDE HOUGHTON


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE IVORY GATE OF DREAMS, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: A continent of silver-gray and rose
Last Line: Where deathless roses gleam like fragrant flames.
Subject(s): Death; Dreams; Graves; Mystery; Poetry & Poets; Sleep; Dead, The; Nightmares; Tombs; Tombstones


A CONTINENT of silver-gray and rose,
Of ruined castles, lichen-mantled towers,
Where many a moonwhite ivory blossom blows
A land of perfume, colour, light, and flowers,
And lyric streams;
Come, seek beyond the ivory gate of dreams.

Mysterious phantom land of myriad names,
Where deathless roses gleam like fragrant flames.

The poppy-laden shadowy gate of sleep,
The hour of twilight stealthily unbars,
And through the night the souls of poets creep
Beyond the portal, far beyond the stars,
Where lustre shows
A continent of silver-gray and rose.

Where every thought is born a moonwhite flower,
And every coloured dream a perfumed hour.

A continent of rose and silver-gray,
(Night fades, the stars grow pale, the world is fled),
Softly awakes the song of dawning day
From birds innumerable overhead,
In leafy bowers
Of ruined castles, lichen-mantled towers.

Mysterious phantom land of myriad names,
Where deathless roses gleam like fragrant flames.

A many-fountained land 'neath azure skies,
A wizard-world of magic mystery,
A land of gorgeous-coloured butterflies,
A world of perfume, rhythm, harmony. ...
Here vanish woes
Where many a moonwhite ivory blossom blows.

Where every thought is born a moonwhite flower,
And every coloured dream a perfumed hour.

Athwart the night the souls of poets creep
Beyond the gate of dreams, beyond the stars,
Beyond the poppy-laden gate of sleep
The mauve and mystic hour of eve unbars;
O hour of hours!
O land of perfume, colour, light, and flowers!

Mysterious phantom land of myriad names,
Where deathless roses gleam like fragrant flames.

Where every thought is born a moonwhite flower,
And every coloured dream a perfumed hour.

Whene'er blue-silver moonlight softly gleams
Entrancingly on silent sleeping streams,
Whene'er the mighty forest murmurs low
Or in the west the fires of sunset glow,
Whene'er the sparkling dew-drenched flowers bloom
On brow of hill or breast of silent tomb,
Whene'er the mystic hour of night reclines
In veils of violet mid the tendrilled vines—
Come, seek beyond the ivory gate of dreams
A land o'er which a star of crimson gleams,
Mysterious phantom land of myriad names,
Where deathless roses gleam like fragrant flames.





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