Poem of the day

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A Dream Within A Dream by Edgar Allan Poe

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow--
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand--
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep--while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

beautiful !

THE TYGER (from Songs Of Experience)

By William Blake

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright

In the forests of the night,

What immortal hand or eye

Could frame thy fearful symmetry?



In what distant deeps or skies

Burnt the fire of thine eyes?

On what wings dare he aspire?

What the hand dare sieze the fire?



And what shoulder, & what art.

Could twist the sinews of thy heart?

And when thy heart began to beat,

What dread hand? & what dread feet?



What the hammer? what the chain?

In what furnace was thy brain?

What the anvil? what dread grasp

Dare its deadly terrors clasp?



When the stars threw down their spears,

And watered heaven with their tears,

Did he smile his work to see?

Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright

In the forests of the night,

What immortal hand or eye

Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

The Sound of Trees

I wonder about the trees.
Why do we wish to bear
Forever the noise of these
More than another noise
So close to our dwelling place?
We suffer them by the day
Till we lose all measure of pace,
And fixity in our joys,
And acquire a listening air.
They are that that talks of going
But never gets away;
And that talks no less for knowing,
As it grows wiser and older,
That now it means to stay.
My feet tug at the floor
And my head sways to my shoulder
Sometimes when I watch trees sway,
From the window or the door.
I shall set forth for somewhere,
I shall make the reckless choice
Some day when they are in voice
And tossing so as to scare
The white clouds over them on.
I shall have less to say,
But I shall be gone.

Robert Frost

The Oven Bird

There is a singer everyone has heard,
Loud, a mid-summer and a mid-wood bird,
Who makes the solid tree trunks sound again.
He says that leaves are old and that for flowers
Mid-summer is to spring as one to ten.
He says the early petal-fall is past
When pear and cherry bloom went down in showers
On sunny days a moment overcast;
And comes that other fall we name the fall.
He says the highway dust is over all.
The bird would cease and be as other birds
But that he knows in singing not to sing.
The question that he frames in all but words
Is what to make of a diminished thing.

Robert Frost

Sonnet 17 - Shakespeare ( For me, the best sonnet he ever wrote)


Who will believe my verse in time to come,
If it were fill'd with your most high deserts?
Though yet heaven knows it is but as a tomb
Which hides your life, and shows not half your parts.
If I could write the beauty of your eyes,
And in fresh numbers number all your graces,
The age to come would say 'This poet lies;
Such heavenly touches ne'er touch'd earthly faces.'
So should my papers, yellow'd with their age,
Be scorn'd, like old men of less truth than tongue,
And your true rights be term'd a poet's rage
And stretched metre of an antique song:
But were some child of yours alive that time,
You should live twice, in it, and in my rhyme.

Meaning:
Will future readers of my verse believe me when I tell them about all of your superior qualities? So far, I have only hinted at these qualities
because a full description of them would make readers doubt that anyone could have such extraordinary attributes. They would call me a
liar. They would say I am exaggerating (with “stretched meter”). Just like if you marry and father a child, people will see a reflection of
you in the child and, in the same way my poetry about you will be taken as the truth and you will live in it even after death. Indeed poetry makes immortal...

** This sonnet Shakespeare wrote for a girl he fell in love with but their love was impossible as she was engaged to someone else and himself unhappily married. And if you watch the movie Shakespeare in Love, you will understand it better. When this girl, Viola came to say her adieu to Shakespeare , the latter said he will not write again after her departure but she begged him not to do so; as when she will read his
plays she will live again with him, just like she lives now in this sonnet after papers yellowed.. Shakespeare was no longer Shakespeare after this as one can notice the melancolic humor the last comedy he wrote, Twelfth Night.
Viola is often refered to as Fair Youth in Shakespeare's poetry..

What Comes Of Tomorrow

by Christine


Joy is what fills the heart of they
which hold within the mysteries of a friend
A passion unknown unto words
Within them fall the tears of all things they endure as one
And from their eyes diamonds fall,
So precious every one
Dear within, the memories they caress with sorrow
And gather them today, for what may come of tomorrow
Priceless
Priceless ever are these moments that we spend with those so dear
Comforting now to know that they are near
Yet there comes a day when they see the eagle soar
And feel within their hearts
A passion so much more
As we stand beside them when that gleam glows in their eyes
What comes of tomorrow
My friend's lost paradise
And though a distant barrier wells up within the heart
There is a joy inside
To know the joy of a dawning start
Standing there beside them on that road to paradise
We say farewell and weep
Knowing they must also compromise
And so we hold them close and whisper in their ear
Please take with you these memories.
Then from the eyes,
Your tear.

Wonderful! Thanks Sassy for sharing

I'm so happy that you liked it Sabine, i liked it so much the moment i read it !

DOVER BEACH BY MATTHEW ARNOLD

The sea is calm to-night.
The tide is full, the moon lies fair
Upon the straits;--on the French coast the light
Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand,
Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!
Only, from the long line of spray
Where the sea meets the moon-blanch'd land,
Listen! you hear the grating roar
Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,
At their return, up the high strand,
Begin, and cease, and then again begin,
With tremulous cadence slow, and bring
The eternal note of sadness in.

Sophocles long ago
Heard it on the Ægean, and it brought
Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow
Of human misery; we
Find also in the sound a thought,
Hearing it by this distant northern sea.

The Sea of Faith
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furl'd.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
Retreating, to the breath
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world.

Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.

I really appreciate reading this poem Especially when being thought by my Prof Arab both the poem and this teacher are AMAZING ^^
“Dover Beach” is one of Matthew Arnold’s wonderful poems.
Arnold may have perceived a loss of absolute religious faith in his time, and hence he stressed the need for an intensive search to recover absolutes. He had also portrayed the uncertitude of his own era i.e the Victorian era.
“Dover Beach” reflects the loss of faith. This is shown in the poem's third stanza:
The Sea of Faith
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furl'd.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
Retreating, to the breath
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world.

while at the same time it stresses the need for integrity. Matthew Arnold went from the Romantic ideas to the shaping of modern writing. He is the bridge between these two literary periods. He shifts from the expressive theories to the objective theories considering the poem as a complete entity standing by itself.

Enjoy it

sabine wrote:DOVER BEACH BY MATTHEW ARNOLD


I really appreciate reading this poem Especially when being thought by my Prof Arab both the poem and this teacher are AMAZING ^^
“Dover Beach” is one of Matthew Arnold’s wonderful poems.
Arnold may have perceived a loss of absolute religious faith in his time, and hence he stressed the need for an intensive search to recover absolutes. He had also portrayed the uncertitude of his own era i.e the Victorian era.
“Dover Beach” reflects the loss of faith. This is shown in the poem's third stanza:
The Sea of Faith
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furl'd.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
Retreating, to the breath
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world.

while at the same time it stresses the need for integrity. Matthew Arnold went from the Romantic ideas to the shaping of modern writing. He is the bridge between these two literary periods. He shifts from the expressive theories to the objective theories considering the poem as a complete entity standing by itself.

Enjoy it

YOU are the amazing one my dear I see that Prof. Arab has transmitted to you some of his enthusiasm on Arnold ! I really do agree with you, Arnold's writings and criticism are both true mirrors of this transitory period and I believe this is the charm of his writings Thanks again for your most valuable pots

Love's Philosophy

The fountains mingle with the river,
And the rivers with the ocean;
The winds of heaven mix forever,
With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single;
All things by a law divine
In one another's being mingle;--
Why not I with thine?

See! the mountains kiss high heaven,
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister flower would be forgiven,
If it disdained it's brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth,
And the moonbeams kiss the sea;--
What are all these kissings worth,
If thou kiss not me?

- Percy Bysshe Shelley

So ROMANTIC !!!! Like it!! Thanks for sharing Sabine

welcome dear. I'm happy that you like it Sassy. Yeah it's soo romantic. In fact,Percy Bysshe Shelley is a romantic poet