WITH moon-white hearts that held a gleam I gathered wild-flowers in a dream, And shaped a woman, whose sweet blood Was odour of the wildwood bud. From dew, the starlight arrowed through, I wrought a woman's eyes of blue; The lids that on her eyeballs lay, Were rose-pale petals of the May. Out of a rosebud's veins I drew The flagrant crimson beating through The languid lips of her, whose kiss Was as a poppy's drowsiness. Out of the moonlight and the air I wrought the glory of her hair, That o'er her eyes' blue heaven lay Like some gold cloud o'er dawn of day. I took the music of the breeze And water, whispering in the trees, And shaped the soul that breathed below A woman's blossom breasts of snow. A shadow's shadow in the glass Of sleep, my spirit saw her pass: And thinking of it now, meseems We only live within our dreams. For in that time she was to me More real than our reality; More real than Earth, more real than I -- The unreal things that pass and die. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OCTAVES: 20 by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON TO MY FATHER by WILLIAM SYDNEY GRAHAM BEYOND THE POTOMAC by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE THE CHAMBERED NAUTILUS by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES LAST SONNET (REVISED VERSION) by JOHN KEATS PLAYING IT SAFE by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS THE BOY AND THE BROOK by LEO ALISHAN |