Yes, perhaps a dream it is,—but far too sweet for breaking. Give me another month to dream on without waking, Or even another day! What are the sweetest things but dreams? What is the summer But just a gorgeous dream to every blossom-comer That laughs encircled in the clasp of May! The real nights are the nights when, golden, beyond number, Star-thoughts and starlike eyes pervade and haunt our slumber: The real days are the days When over and round about us sunny Love is gleaming:— False days and nights are those that have no heart for dreaming,— When no thoughts thrill our stormy souls to lays. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DIVINE IMAGE, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE THE TWO SAYINGS by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE BRIDGE: PROEM. TO BROOKLYN BRIDGE by HAROLD HART CRANE THE ECSTASY [EXTASIE] by JOHN DONNE INDIAN WOMAN'S DEATH-SONG by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS |