I HAVE lighted the dear old pipe again To think the matter o'er, Just as a legion of Dartmouth men Have done like me before. The same old dream curls up in smoke Blue as Havana's skies, And I feel the iron strength of its yoke And I think of its Paradise. Thinking and dreaming! yet never an act Of mine to build the dream; Do I worship the dream and hate the fact? Ah, this the case doth seem. False the impression! yet you and I Have worshiped the dream too long; Then no more dreaming — but do it or die! We are not a weakling throng. When the dream is girded in steel and stone We can take our pipes again, And smoke all together, or smoke alone The peace of Wheelock's men. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ELIOT'S OAK; SONNET by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE VICTOR AT ANTIETAM [SEPTEMBER 17, 1862] by HERMAN MELVILLE IMPRESSION DU MATIN by OSCAR WILDE COMRADES by GEORGE EDWARD WOODBERRY RIDDLE by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE PARSON'S LOOKS by ROBERT BURNS TO A GENTLEMAN WHO SENT HIM A NEWSPAPER by ROBERT BURNS |