Home ⇒ 📌Sara Teasdale ⇒ Houses Of Dreams
Houses Of Dreams
You took my empty dreams
And filled them every one
With tenderness and nobleness,
April and the sun.
The old empty dreams
Where my thoughts would throng
Are far too full of happiness
To even hold a song.
Oh, the empty dreams were dim
And the empty dreams were wide,
They were sweet and shadowy houses
Where my thoughts could hide.
But you took my dreams away
And you made them all come true
My thoughts have no place now to play,
And nothing now to do.
(1 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)
Related poetry:
- Sweet safe Houses Sweet safe Houses Glad gay Houses Sealed so stately tight Lids of Steel on Lids of Marble Locking Bare feet out Brooks of Plush in Banks of Satin Not so softly fall As the laughter and the whisper From their People Pearl No Bald Death affront their Parlors No Bold Sickness come To deface their […]...
- Dreams Are Best I just think that dreams are best, Just to sit and fancy things; Give your gold no acid test, Try not how your silver rings; Fancy women pure and good, Fancy men upright and true: Fortressed in your solitude, Let Life be a dream to you. For I think that Thought is all; Truth’s a […]...
- I Arise From Dreams Of Thee I arise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night, When the winds are breathing low, And the stars are shining bright I arise from dreams of thee, And a spirit in my feet Has led me who knows how? To thy chamber-window, sweet! The wandering airs they faint On the dark, […]...
- The Land Of Dreams Awake, awake my little Boy! Thou wast thy Mother’s only joy: Why dost thou weep in thy gentle sleep? Awake! thy Father does thee keep. “O, what land is the Land of Dreams? What are its mountains, and what are its streams? O Father, I saw my Mother there, Among the lillies by waters fair. […]...
- Only Dreams A maiden sat in teh sunset glow Of the shadowy, beautiful Long Ago, That we see through a mist of tears. She sat and dreamed, with lips apart, With thoughtful eyes and a beating heart, Of the mystical future years; And brighter far than the sunset skies Was the vision seen by the maiden’s eyes. […]...
- The dreams Two dreams came down to earth one night From the realm of mist and dew; One was a dream of the old, old days, And one was a dream of the new. One was a dream of a shady lane That led to the pickerel pond Where the willows and rushes bowed themselves To the […]...
- Dreams Oh! that my young life were a lasting dream! My spirit not awakening, till the beam Of an Eternity should bring the morrow. Yes! tho’ that long dream were of hopeless sorrow, ‘Twere better than the cold reality Of waking life, to him whose heart must be, And hath been still, upon the lovely earth, […]...
- Dreams in the dusk DREAMS in the dusk, Only dreams closing the day And with the day’s close going back To the gray things, the dark things, The far, deep things of dreamland. Dreams, only dreams in the dusk, Only the old remembered pictures Of lost days when the day’s loss Wrote in tears the heart’s loss. Tears and […]...
- Houses chapter IX A mason came forth and said, “Speak to us of Houses.” And he answered and said: Build of your imaginings a bower in the wilderness ere you build a house within the city walls. For even as you have home-comings in your twilight, so has the wanderer in you, the ever distant and alone. Your […]...
- Clowns' Houses BENEATH the flat and paper sky The sun, a demon’s eye, Glowed through the air, that mask of glass; All wand’ring sounds that pass Seemed out of tune, as if the light Were fiddle-strings pulled tight. The market-square with spire and bell Clanged out the hour in Hell; The busy chatter of the heat Shrilled […]...
- Dreams All people dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their mind, Wake in the morning to find that it was vanity. But the dreamers of the day are dangerous people, For they dream their dreams with open eyes, And make them come true....
- Dreams I had a dream, a dream of dread: I thought that horror held the house; A burglar bent above my bed, He moved as quiet as a mouse. With hairy hand and naked knife He poised to plunge a bloody stroke, Until despairful of my life I shrieked with terror – and awoke. I had […]...
- The Loom of Dreams I broider the world upon a loom, I broider with dreams my tapestry; Here in a little lonely room I am master of earth and sea, And the planets come to me. I broider my life into the frame, I broider my love, thread upon thread; The world goes by with its glory and shame, […]...
- Houses (For Aline) When you shall die and to the sky Serenely, delicately go, Saint Peter, when he sees you there, Will clash his keys and say: “Now talk to her, Sir Christopher! And hurry, Michelangelo! She wants to play at building, And you’ve got to help her play!” Every architect will help erect A palace […]...
- Dreams of better days At break of day we rested, the contest of our wills Declined to wrest the peace away and where The foreign powers held sway a quiet was in abundance; A ghostly calm entranced the crowd shrouded In the shadow dance we left them, proud and unafraid, We fled the play, we fled the crowd, we […]...
- The Oldest Song “These were never your true love’s eyes. Why do you feign that you love them? You that broke from their constancies, And the wide calm brows above them! This was never your true love’s speech. Why do you thrill when you hear it? You that have ridden out of its reach The width of the […]...
- Houses People who are afraid of themselves Multiply themselves into families And so divide themselves And so become less afraid. People who might have to go out Into clanging strangers’ laughter, Crowd under roofs, make compacts To no more than smile at each other. People who might meet their own faces Or surprise their own voices […]...
- Dreams of a lifetime Ronald Hi Khong Wong is gone, Sadly he deceased The commencement of this week. It wasn’t unexpected. He never contradicted The prediction of his death Although, perhaps, he hoped for time To sort some odds and ends, And we for time to make allowances For our friend’s impending end. Alas it weren’t to be. We […]...
- I know some lonely Houses off the Road I know some lonely Houses off the Road A Robber’d like the look of Wooden barred, And Windows hanging low, Inviting to A Portico, Where two could creep One hand the Tools The other peep To make sure All’s Asleep Old fashioned eyes Not easy to surprise! How orderly the Kitchen’d look, by night, With […]...
- Dreams Old I have opened the window to warm my hands on the sill Where the sunlight soaks in the stone: the afternoon Is full of dreams, my love, the boys are all still In a wistful dream of Lorna Doone. The clink of the shunting engines is sharp and fine, Like savage music striking far off, […]...
- Tired And Unhappy, You Think Of Houses Tired and unhappy, you think of houses Soft-carpeted and warm in the December evening, While snow’s white pieces fall past the window, And the orange firelight leaps. A young girl sings That song of Gluck where Orpheus pleads with Death; Her elders watch, nodding their happiness To see time fresh again in her self-conscious eyes: […]...
- Autobiographical The lover in these poems Is me; The doctor, Love. He appears As husband, lover Analyst & muse, As father, son & maybe even God & surely death. All this is true. The man you turn to In the dark Is many men. This is an open secret Women share & yet agree to hide […]...
- Carlovingian Dreams COUNT these reminiscences like money. The Greeks had their picnics under another name. The Romans wore glad rags and told their neighbors, “What of it?” The Carlovingians hauling logs on carts, they too Stuck their noses in the air and stuck their thumbs to their noses And tasted life as a symphonic dream of fresh […]...
- "Houses" so the Wise Men tell me “Houses” so the Wise Men tell me “Mansions”! Mansions must be warm! Mansions cannot let the tears in, Mansions must exclude the storm! “Many Mansions,” by “his Father,” I don’t know him; snugly built! Could the Children find the way there Some, would even trudge tonight!...
- On The Life Of Man What is our life? a play of passion; Our mirth the musick of division: Our mother’s wombes the tyring houses bee Where wee are drest for tyme’s short comedy: The earth’s the stage, heaven the spectator is, Who marketh still whoere doth act amisse: Our graves that hide us from the burning sunne Are but […]...
- Like Truthless Dreams, So Are My Joys Expired Like truthless dreams, so are my joys expired, And past return are all my dandled days; My love misled, and fancy quite retired – Of all which passed the sorrow only stays. My lost delights, now clean from sight of land, Have left me all alone in unknown ways; My mind to woe, my life […]...
- Toad Dreams That afternoon the dream of the toads Rang through the elms by Little River And affected the thoughts of men, Though they were not conscious that They heard it. Henry Thoreau The dream of toads: we rarely Credit what we consider lesser Life with emotions big as ours, But we are easily distracted, Abstracted. People […]...
- God's Light-Houses 1 When night falls on the earth, the sea 2 From east to west lies twinkling bright 3 With shining beams from beacons high 4 Which flash afar a friendly light. 5 The sailor’s eyes, like eyes in prayer, 6 Turn unto them for guiding ray: 7 If storms obscure their radiance, 8 The great […]...
- PUBLISHERS And then they pretend like owls With marble eyes and wizened stupidity I do not know why they cannot perceive True art But I will write Until sand evaporates And the moon consumes the sun I will write Even for the sake of art For myself and for those who feel Reading could lift them […]...
- Life What is our life? A play of passion, Our mirth the music of division, Our mother’s wombs the tiring-houses be, Where we are dressed for this short comedy. Heaven the judicious sharp spectator is, That sits and marks still who doth act amiss. Our graves that hide us from the setting sun Are like drawn […]...
- Dreams Nascent My world is a painted fresco, where coloured shapes Of old, ineffectual lives linger blurred and warm; An endless tapestry the past has women drapes The halls of my life, compelling my soul to conform. The surface of dreams is broken, The picture of the past is shaken and scattered. Fluent, active figures of men […]...
- Take Back the Virgin Page Written on Returning a Blank Book Take back the virgin page, White and unwritten still; Some hand, more calm and sage, The leaf must fill. Thoughts come, as pure as light Pure as even you require; But, oh! each word I write Love turns to fire. Yet let me keep the book: Oft shall my […]...
- Dreams are well but Waking's better Dreams are well but Waking’s better, If One wake at morn If One wake at Midnight better Dreaming of the Dawn Sweeter the Surmising Robins Never gladdened Tree Than a Solid Dawn confronting Leading to no Day...
- Twas One of Those Dreams ‘TWAS one of those dreams, that by music are brought, Like a bright summer haze, o’er the poet’s warm thought When, lost in the future, his soul wanders on, And all of this life, but its sweetness, is gone. The wild notes he heard o’er the water were those He had taught to sing Erin’s […]...
- Wild Dreams Of A New Beginning There’s a breathless hush on the freeway tonight Beyond the ledges of concrete Restaurants fall into dreams With candlelight couples Lost Alexandria still burns In a billion lightbulbs Lives cross lives Idling at stoplights Beyond the cloverleaf turnoffs ‘Souls eat souls in the general emptiness’ A piano concerto comes out a kitchen window A yogi […]...
- Cry your dreams cry your dreams Child, Cry silent your screams As Still again, Those masters of war Face our souls And try to ignore. The broken tears Lying Shattered still, Across graveyards Too full. Our children There they lie, Lost to reason Lost to sky Fatherless children Asking Still asking why? Do we bleed Our eyes blind, […]...
- Dreams I do not care to talk to you although Your speech evokes a thousand sympathies, And all my being’s silent harmonies Wake trembling into music. When you go It is as if some sudden, dreadful blow Had severed all the strings with savage ease. No, do not talk; but let us rather seize This intimate […]...
- From Dewy Dreams From dewy dreams, my soul, arise, From love’s deep slumber and from death, For lo! the treees are full of sighs Whose leaves the morn admonisheth. Eastward the gradual dawn prevails Where softly-burning fires appear, Making to tremble all those veils Of grey and golden gossamer. While sweetly, gently, secretly, The flowery bells of morn […]...
- My Lost Youth Often I think of the beautiful town That is seated by the sea; Often in thought go up and down The pleasant streets of that dear old town, And my youth comes back to me. And a verse of a Lapland song Is haunting my memory still: “A boy’s will is the wind’s will, And […]...
- Sea Dreams A city clerk, but gently born and bred; His wife, an unknown artist’s orphan child One babe was theirs, a Margaret, three years old: They, thinking that her clear germander eye Droopt in the giant-factoried city-gloom, Came, with a month’s leave given them, to the sea: For which his gains were dock’d, however small: Small […]...
« Song