Quotes like Perfect rose shivers Fears being...

Perfect rose shivers
Fears being picked at dawn
And fade in a vase

senryu by Oskar Hansen
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With Rose In Hand

Prayer is worth more than a rose
in my hand where love grows
for God and all he knows
The rose has a thorn
which Jesus felt on the crown he had worn.
the rose is red as the blood from his head
when he was crucifed before we were born.

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poem by Meg Harrison
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Margaret's Bridal Eve

The old grey mother she thrummed on her knee:
There is a rose that's ready;
And which of the handsome young men shall it be?
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

My daughter, come hither, come hither to me:
There is a rose that's ready;
Come, point me your finger on him that you see:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

O mother, my mother, it never can be:
There is a rose that's ready;
For I shall bring shame on the man marries me:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

Now let your tongue be deep as the sea:
There is a rose that's ready;
And the man'll jump for you, right briskly will he:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

Tall Margaret wept bitterly:
There is a rose that's ready;
And as her parent bade did she:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

O the handsome young man dropped down on his knee:
There is a rose that's ready;
Pale Margaret gave him her hand, woe's me!
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

O mother, my mother, this thing I must say:
There is a rose in the garden;
Ere he lies on the breast where that other lay:
And the bird sings over the roses.

Now, folly, my daughter, for men are men:
There is a rose in the garden;
You marry them blindfold, I tell you again:
And the bird sings over the roses.

O mother, but when he kisses me!
There is a rose in the garden;
My child, 'tis which shall sweetest be!
And the bird sings over the roses.

O mother, but when I awake in the morn!

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poem by George Meredith
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Rose Mary

Of her two fights with the Beryl-stone
Lost the first, but the second won.

PART I

“MARY mine that art Mary's Rose
Come in to me from the garden-close.
The sun sinks fast with the rising dew,
And we marked not how the faint moon grew;
But the hidden stars are calling you.
“Tall Rose Mary, come to my side,
And read the stars if you'd be a bride.
In hours whose need was not your own,
While you were a young maid yet ungrown
You've read the stars in the Beryl-stone.
“Daughter, once more I bid you read;
But now let it be for your own need:
Because to-morrow, at break of day,
To Holy Cross he rides on his way,
Your knight Sir James of Heronhaye.
“Ere he wed you, flower of mine,
For a heavy shrift he seeks the shrine.
Now hark to my words and do not fear;
Ill news next I have for your ear;
But be you strong, and our help is here.
“On his road, as the rumour's rife,
An ambush waits to take his life.
He needs will go, and will go alone;
Where the peril lurks may not be known;
But in this glass all things are shown.”
Pale Rose Mary sank to the floor:—
“The night will come if the day is o'er!”
“Nay, heaven takes counsel, star with star,
And help shall reach your heart from afar:
A bride you'll be, as a maid you are.”
The lady unbound her jewelled zone
And drew from her robe the Beryl-stone.
Shaped it was to a shadowy sphere,—
World of our world, the sun's compeer,
That bears and buries the toiling year.
With shuddering light 'twas stirred and strewn
Like the cloud-nest of the wading moon:
Freaked it was as the bubble's ball,
Rainbow-hued through a misty pall
Like the middle light of the waterfall.
Shadows dwelt in its teeming girth
Of the known and unknown things of earth;
The cloud above and the wave around,—
The central fire at the sphere's heart bound,
Like doomsday prisoned underground.

[...] Read more

poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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The Perfect Drug

The perfect drug
I got my head, but my head is unraveling
Cant keep control, cant keep track of where its traveling
I got my heart but my heart is no good
And youre the only one thats understood
I come along but I dont know where youre taking me
I shouldnt go but youre reaching back and shaking me
Turn off the sun, pull the stars from the sky
The more I give to you, the more I die
And I want you
And I want you
And I want you
And I want you
You are the perfect drug, the perfect drug, the perfect drug
You are the perfect drug, the perfect drug, the perfect drug
You make me hard, when Im all soft inside
I see the truth, when Im all stupid eyed
The arrow goes straight through my heart
Without you everything just falls apart
My blood wants to say hello to you
My feelings want to get inside of you
My soul is so afraid to realize
Every little word is a lack of me
And I want you
And I want you
And I want you
And I want you
You are the perfect drug, the perfect drug, the perfect drug
You are the perfect drug, the perfect drug, the perfect drug
You are the perfect drug, the perfect drug, the perfect drug
You are the perfect drug, the perfect drug, the perfect drug
You are the perfect drug, the perfect drug, the perfect drug
You are the perfect drug, the perfect drug, the perfect drug
(whispering)
You are the perfect drug, the perfect drug, the perfect drug
You are the perfect drug, the perfect drug, the perfect drug
You are the perfect drug, the drug, the perfect drug
Take me, with you
Take me, with you
Take me, with you
(continues in backround)
Without you, without you everything falls apart
Without you, its not as much fun to pick up the pieces
Without you, without you everything falls apart
Without you, its not as much fun to pick up the pieces
Its not as much fun to pick up the pieces
Its not as much fun to pick up the pieces
Without you, without you everything falls apart
Without you, its not as much fun to pick up the pieces

song performed by Nine Inch Nails
Added by Lucian Velea
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First rose

A heart of youthful year was yearning,
Crying out the pain; the burning
Tears would e’er remain until
An answer from the man would see them die.

A sympathetic mirror blessed her –
Softened up the curves, caressed her
Skin to help regain a calm –
Assuage a heaving breast and blushing eye.

And through a struggling mind, a chiming:
Someone at the door; the timing
Perfect and exquisite in the
Reconciliation of her woes.

She took the oak to make the parting,
‘Here! ’ a presentation startling.
Drawing deep through radiant lips, she
Kissed her very dream: a crimson rose.

[...] Read more

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Year Zero

Be a hero
Kill your ego
It doesn't matter it's all just a pack of lies
Build a new base
Steal a new face
It doesn't matter it's all just to save you
We'll never fade away
We'll never fade away

I will stand by your ground
I will tear down myself
I won't fade

Year zero
Another hero
Is anybody alive here across the line?
Buy a new face
Start a new race
It doesn't matter it's all just to save your face
It's all just to save you
It's all just to save your face
It's all just to save you

We'll never fade away
We'll never fade away

I will stand by your ground
I will tear down myself
I will stand by your ground
I will tear down myself
I won't fade
I won't fade

We'll never fade away
We'll never fade away
We'll never fade away
We'll never fade away

We'll never fade away
We'll never fade away (We will never fade away)
We'll never fade away (We will never fade away)
We'll never fade away (We will never fade away)
We'll never fade away (We will never fade)
We'll never fade away (We will never fade away)
We'll never fade away (We will never fade)
We'll never fade away

song performed by 30 Seconds To Mars from 30 Seconds To Mars
Added by Lucian Velea
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5 Roses

Transparent Rose
In my heart lies a Vase
With 5 roses
5 roses all for you
With five different colors
All to show you what you mean to me
The First Rose
The yellow Rose
The yellow rose is the rose for you from me
To let you know you’re my friend, my best friend
That is a way to show you I’ll be always there for you
The Second Rose
The Blue Rose
The blue rose is to show you
With all my heart what you mean to me
With this rose I show you
There is no battle that I won’t fight for you there is no ocean big enough that can separate my love from you
There is no mountain high enough that I can’t climb for you
With this rose is the beginning of my love to you
The Third Rose
The Red Rose
Within this rose lies all the love I have for you
All the caring
All the loving
I will give to you
This rose show you how you should be treated
I will always romance your heart just to see you smile
Like an Angel
The Fourth Rose
The White Rose
With this rose I show you
All the passion that lies in my heart
All the tenderness I have towards you
All the love that I will show you each time I have and can
With all my strength and love
My heart cries for you
The Fifth Rose
A Rose that has no color
A rose that is undying
A rose that you can see trough and that there is nothing to hide
A rose so pure and true
That all that lies in it is you
So perfectly, so preciously
A girl that is so pure of heart like an angel
This Rose is a Transparent Rose
With this rose I show you all that I am
With this rose I show you I have nothing to hide
Here you can see your reflection that lies in my heart
A love so deeply living in me
I love you with all my heart

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poem by Ricky Baker
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Transparent Rose

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poem by Carlos Wever
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A Tale Of Starvation

There once was a man whom the gods didn't love,
And a disagreeable man was he.
He loathed his neighbours, and his neighbours hated him,
And he cursed eternally.

He damned the sun, and he damned the stars,
And he blasted the winds in the sky.
He sent to Hell every green, growing thing,
And he raved at the birds as they fly.

His oaths were many, and his range was wide,
He swore in fancy ways;
But his meaning was plain: that no created thing
Was other than a hurt to his gaze.

He dwelt all alone, underneath a leaning hill,
And windows toward the hill there were none,
And on the other side they were white-washed thick,
To keep out every spark of the sun.

When he went to market he walked all the way
Blaspheming at the path he trod.
He cursed at those he bought of, and swore at those he sold to,
By all the names he knew of God.

For his heart was soured in his weary old hide,
And his hopes had curdled in his breast.
His friend had been untrue, and his love had thrown him over
For the chinking money-bags she liked best.

The rats had devoured the contents of his grain-bin,
The deer had trampled on his corn,
His brook had shrivelled in a summer drought,
And his sheep had died unshorn.

His hens wouldn't lay, and his cow broke loose,
And his old horse perished of a colic.
In the loft his wheat-bags were nibbled into holes
By little, glutton mice on a frolic.

So he slowly lost all he ever had,
And the blood in his body dried.
Shrunken and mean he still lived on,
And cursed that future which had lied.

One day he was digging, a spade or two,
As his aching back could lift,
When he saw something glisten at the bottom of the trench,
And to get it out he made great shift.

[...] Read more

poem by Amy Lowell
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Raincheck

Its not high finance, its called heart and soul
If its rock and roll, got to go, go, go, go, go
Gonna keep moving on up to the higher ground
Gonna keep on moving on up, I got to stand my ground
Gonna keep on moving on up, I wanna stick around
Wont let the bastards grind me down
Wont let the bastards grind me down
Wont let the bastards grind me down
Call me raincheck in the afternoon
Call me raincheck, need a shot of rhythm and blues
Call me raincheck, on a golden autumn day
Call me raincheck, I wont fade away, I wont fade away
I dont fade away, I dont fade away, unless I want to
Cant take my love away, ah cause its here to stay
If it fades away, come back another day
Gonna keep on moving on up to the higher ground
Gonna keep on moving on up, I wanna stick around
Gonna keep on moving on up, oh gonna stand my ground
Wont let the bastards grind me down
Wont let the bastards grind me down
Wont let the bastards grind me down
My name is raincheck in the afternoon
My name is raincheck, need a shot of rhythm and blues
My name is raincheck, on a golden autumn day
My name is raincheck, and I dont fade away, I dont fade away
I dont fade away, I dont fade away, unless I want to
Move it up, move it up, move it up, move it up
Move it up, move it up, move it up, move it up
Move it up, move it up, move it up, move it up, move it up
Grind me down, grind me down, grind me down
My name is raincheck in the afternoon
My name is raincheck, need a shot of rhythm and blues
My name is raincheck, on a golden autumn day
My name is raincheck, and I dont fade away, I dont fade away
I dont fade away, I dont fade away, unless I want to
Put on your dancing shoes, dance away your blues
When Im feeling like this, I got nothing to lose
Wanna keep on moving on up to the higher ground
Wanna keep on moving on up and Ill stick around
Wanna keep on moving on up, got to stand my ground
Wont let the bastards grind me down
Wont let the bastards grind me down
Oh, wont let the bastards grind me down
My name is raincheck in the afternoon
My name is raincheck, need a shot of rhythm and blues
My name is raincheck, on a golden autumn day
My name is raincheck, and I dont fade away, I dont fade away
I dont fade away, I dont fade away, unless I choose
I choose, I choose, I choose
No, I dont fade away, I dont fade away, I dont fade away

[...] Read more

song performed by Van Morrison
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Pelleas And Ettarre

King Arthur made new knights to fill the gap
Left by the Holy Quest; and as he sat
In hall at old Caerleon, the high doors
Were softly sundered, and through these a youth,
Pelleas, and the sweet smell of the fields
Past, and the sunshine came along with him.

`Make me thy knight, because I know, Sir King,
All that belongs to knighthood, and I love.'
Such was his cry: for having heard the King
Had let proclaim a tournament--the prize
A golden circlet and a knightly sword,
Full fain had Pelleas for his lady won
The golden circlet, for himself the sword:
And there were those who knew him near the King,
And promised for him: and Arthur made him knight.

And this new knight, Sir Pelleas of the isles--
But lately come to his inheritance,
And lord of many a barren isle was he--
Riding at noon, a day or twain before,
Across the forest called of Dean, to find
Caerleon and the King, had felt the sun
Beat like a strong knight on his helm, and reeled
Almost to falling from his horse; but saw
Near him a mound of even-sloping side,
Whereon a hundred stately beeches grew,
And here and there great hollies under them;
But for a mile all round was open space,
And fern and heath: and slowly Pelleas drew
To that dim day, then binding his good horse
To a tree, cast himself down; and as he lay
At random looking over the brown earth
Through that green-glooming twilight of the grove,
It seemed to Pelleas that the fern without
Burnt as a living fire of emeralds,
So that his eyes were dazzled looking at it.
Then o'er it crost the dimness of a cloud
Floating, and once the shadow of a bird
Flying, and then a fawn; and his eyes closed.
And since he loved all maidens, but no maid
In special, half-awake he whispered, `Where?
O where? I love thee, though I know thee not.
For fair thou art and pure as Guinevere,
And I will make thee with my spear and sword
As famous--O my Queen, my Guinevere,
For I will be thine Arthur when we meet.'

Suddenly wakened with a sound of talk
And laughter at the limit of the wood,

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Your Perfect Little Girl...

Your perfect little girl dropped a grade on her report card.
Your perfect little girl yelled at you last night.
Your perfect little girl painted her nails black.
Your perfect little girl lied to you all her life.
Your perfect little girl cries herself to sleep.
Your perfect little girl slits her wrists till she bleeds.
Your perfect little girl hates you.
Your perfect little girl hates herself.
Your perfect little girl has given up on life.
Your perfect little girl had a tantrum today.
Your perfect little girl has her head in the toilet after dinner.
Your perfect little girl wants to run away.
Your perfect little girl hasn't let you dry her tears.
Your perfect little girl disobeyed you.
Your perfect little girl hates the world.
Your perfect little girl is hated by the world.
Your perfect little girl is very unhappy.
Your perfect little girl tried to commit suicide.
Your perfect little girl became a disgrace.
Your perfect little girl keeps alot of secrets.
Your perfect little girl deals with everything on her own
Your perfect little girl had to grow up too fast.
Your perfect little girl is on the edge of breakdown.
Your perfect little girl just isn't so perfect anymore.

poem by Gabriela Valoy
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I Bought You A Rose

the problem is
the grandfather clock
in the adjacent room
it chimes
on the hour
every hour
through the night
it keeps me awake
through the night
the night in which
i think of you
because
i hold the rose
in my hand
through the night
the rose that i bought you
in the afternoon
the rose that you did not want
in the evening
the evening when i took you out
and you said
you did not want the rose
you wanted it to be over between us
you said it was no use
a rose was no use
a rose could not
bring us together
a rose could not
keep us together
a rose by any other name
is still just a rose
you said
i should keep my rose
you said
you said it when i offered you the rose
you said it again
when the evening was over
when we left each other
and so i took it home
the rose that i bought you
i thought of you
on my way home
with the rose
i thought of how it had been
between us
i thought of how it might have been
between us
i tried to forget
how it had been
between us

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poem by Rory Hudson
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Where Your First Rose?

Someone use to remember loved once after many years (first rose-First love) that we never forget. Looking for it again hence nothing can accomplishes first love. Time has changed every things...
____________________________________ ______________________

Where your first rose?

Where your first rose?
I know you looking for it
But you cannot find...

Where your first rose?
I know you having forget it
Somewhere that you don’t know...

Where your first rose?
Hiding some where
You cannot ever reach...

Where your first rose?
Beneath someone heart
That you don’t know the person...

Where your first rose?
That cherish for ever
You forget to rescue it...

Where your first rose?
That you need to smell it
But you didn’t...

Where your first rose?
Smell like angels perfume
You once smell...

Where your first rose?
That you looking every where
Run away from you...

Where your first rose?
That born together in every soul
But you chased away...

Where your first rose?
That gives you happiness
Forever and forever...

Where your first rose?
That you kissed it every day
When you have it...

[...] Read more

poem by Palitha Ariyarathna
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Shakin All Over

When you move in right up close to me
Thats when I get the shivers all over me
Shivers down my backbone
I get the shakes in the thighbone
Shivers in my knee bone
Shakin all over
Just the way you say goodnight to me
Theres a feeling on the side of me
Shivers down my backbone
I got the shakes in my thighbone
Shivers in my kneebone
Shakin all over
Just the way you say goodnight to me
Brings a feeling Im inside of me
Shivers down my backbone
Ive got the shakes in my thighbone
Oh shivers in my knee bone
Im shakin all over
Im shakin all over
Im shakin all over
When youre moving right up close to me
Thats when I get the shivers all over me
Just the way you say goodnight to me
Brings a feeling outside of me
Im shakin all over
Im shakin all over
Im shakin all over

song performed by Iggy Pop
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Rose Is A Flower-Empress

(Gen.1: 11 & Gen.2: 8,15 / Matt.6: 28–30 /
(Prov.6: 6 / Rom.1: 19,20 / Matt.13: 10–15)

Look At Her
In Her Bouquet
She Knows She’s The Best
Pick of Today …

Such Vivid Color
Or Softly Hued
and Look At The Poise
With Which She’s Imbued

Such Lovely Lines
Such Stately Grace
Such Perfect Symmetry
… of Her Face

… Stands Out In Crowd
Or Alone In Vase
She Is The Empress
Of Petals’ Empire Race!

… Other Flowers
All Scheme & Stare
They Wish They Had
Her Blossoms’ Flair

For Every Man
Becomes Debonair
With A Dozen of The Empress’s
Men At–Arms … To Bear

The Rose Holds Court
In Ordered – Arrangements
Over Her Entourage
… Her Entertainment

She’s A Scepter of Love
Signet-Sonnet For Heart
& Fragrance of Goodwill
… She Regally Imparts

But If One Is Careless
Of Her Placement–Highborn
Her Soldiers Rush In
With Sharp Barbed Thorns!

She Is Cultured-Classic

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poem by MoonBee Canady
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The Dream

'TWAS summer eve; the changeful beams still play'd
On the fir-bark and through the beechen shade;
Still with soft crimson glow'd each floating cloud;
Still the stream glitter'd where the willow bow'd;
Still the pale moon sate silent and alone,
Nor yet the stars had rallied round her throne;
Those diamond courtiers, who, while yet the West
Wears the red shield above his dying breast,
Dare not assume the loss they all desire,
Nor pay their homage to the fainter fire,
But wait in trembling till the Sun's fair light
Fading, shall leave them free to welcome Night!

So when some Chief, whose name through realms afar
Was still the watchword of succesful war,
Met by the fatal hour which waits for all,
Is, on the field he rallied, forced to fall,
The conquerors pause to watch his parting breath,
Awed by the terrors of that mighty death;
Nor dare the meed of victory to claim,
Nor lift the standard to a meaner name,
Till every spark of soul hath ebb'd away,
And leaves what was a hero, common clay.

Oh! Twilight! Spirit that dost render birth
To dim enchantments; melting Heaven with Earth,
Leaving on craggy hills and rumning streams
A softness like the atmosphere of dreams;
Thy hour to all is welcome! Faint and sweet
Thy light falls round the peasant's homeward feet,
Who, slow returning from his task of toil,
Sees the low sunset gild the cultured soil,
And, tho' such radliance round him brightly glows,
Marks the small spark his cottage window throws.
Still as his heart forestals his weary pace,
Fondly he dreams of each familiar face,
Recalls the treasures of his narrow life,
His rosy children, and his sunburnt wife,

To whom his coming is the chief event
Of simple days in cheerful labour spent.
The rich man's chariot hath gone whirling past,
And those poor cottagers have only cast
One careless glance on all that show of pride,
Then to their tasks turn'd quietly aside;
But him they wait for, him they welcome home,
Fond sentinels look forth to see him come;
The fagot sent for when the fire grew dim,
The frugal meal prepared, are all for him;
For him the watching of that sturdy boy,

[...] Read more

poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
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Fears For Fears

Death promises nothing for me
And I don't expect nothing from death
Either than pain and sorrows
Fears for fears
Live in me
When I walk late at night on the road
Because I never know what can happen to me
But I believe that God is always on my side
Fears for fears
I will never trust the promises of a lazy man
Fears for fears
I will drink the one
With my food
So that I can give gheers to my God
Fears for fears
I don't fear the thunder or lightning
Fears for fears
The pond is home to all ducks
Because all the ducks lives in the pond
Swimming away
Fears for fears
What more can I give to God
Than myself
Fears for fears
The paths are not clear of the snow
In the winter
In the city where I live
Fears for fears
The harbour is so quiet during the winter
Because no boats are in the harbour during the winter
And everything sleeps away in the harbour
Also the night comes early during the winter months
But summer is different
Because the light shines all day
Fears for fears
Our bodies are made of water
And we need water to survive in this heat

poem by Aldo Kraas
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The Undying One- Canto III

'THERE is a sound the autumn wind doth make
Howling and moaning, listlessly and low:
Methinks that to a heart that ought to break
All the earth's voices seem to murmur so.
The visions that crost
Our path in light--
The things that we lost
In the dim dark night--
The faces for which we vainly yearn--
The voices whose tones will not return--
That low sad wailing breeze doth bring
Borne on its swift and rushing wing.
Have ye sat alone when that wind was loud,
And the moon shone dim from the wintry cloud?
When the fire was quench'd on your lonely hearth,
And the voices were still which spoke of mirth?

If such an evening, tho' but one,
It hath been yours to spend alone--
Never,--though years may roll along
Cheer'd by the merry dance and song;
Though you mark'd not that bleak wind's sound before,
When louder perchance it used to roar--
Never shall sound of that wintry gale
Be aught to you but a voice of wail!
So o'er the careless heart and eye
The storms of the world go sweeping by;
But oh! when once we have learn'd to weep,
Well doth sorrow his stern watch keep.
Let one of our airy joys decay--
Let one of our blossoms fade away--
And all the griefs that others share
Seem ours, as well as theirs, to bear:
And the sound of wail, like that rushing wind
Shall bring all our own deep woe to mind!

'I went through the world, but I paused not now
At the gladsome heart and the joyous brow:
I went through the world, and I stay'd to mark
Where the heart was sore, and the spirit dark:
And the grief of others, though sad to see,
Was fraught with a demon's joy to me!

'I saw the inconstant lover come to take
Farewell of her he loved in better days,
And, coldly careless, watch the heart-strings break--
Which beat so fondly at his words of praise.
She was a faded, painted, guilt-bow'd thing,
Seeking to mock the hues of early spring,
When misery and years had done their worst

[...] Read more

poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
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The House Of Dust: Complete

The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light.
The trees grow dark: the shadows lean to the east:
And lights wink out through the windows, one by one.
A clamor of frosty sirens mourns at the night.
Pale slate-grey clouds whirl up from the sunken sun.

And the wandering one, the inquisitive dreamer of dreams,
The eternal asker of answers, stands in the street,
And lifts his palms for the first cold ghost of rain.
The purple lights leap down the hill before him.
The gorgeous night has begun again.

'I will ask them all, I will ask them all their dreams,
I will hold my light above them and seek their faces.
I will hear them whisper, invisible in their veins . . .'
The eternal asker of answers becomes as the darkness,
Or as a wind blown over a myriad forest,
Or as the numberless voices of long-drawn rains.

We hear him and take him among us, like a wind of music,
Like the ghost of a music we have somewhere heard;
We crowd through the streets in a dazzle of pallid lamplight,
We pour in a sinister wave, ascend a stair,
With laughter and cry, and word upon murmured word;
We flow, we descend, we turn . . . and the eternal dreamer
Moves among us like light, like evening air . . .

Good-night! Good-night! Good-night! We go our ways,
The rain runs over the pavement before our feet,
The cold rain falls, the rain sings.
We walk, we run, we ride. We turn our faces
To what the eternal evening brings.

Our hands are hot and raw with the stones we have laid,
We have built a tower of stone high into the sky,
We have built a city of towers.

Our hands are light, they are singing with emptiness.
Our souls are light; they have shaken a burden of hours . . .
What did we build it for? Was it all a dream? . . .
Ghostly above us in lamplight the towers gleam . . .
And after a while they will fall to dust and rain;
Or else we will tear them down with impatient hands;
And hew rock out of the earth, and build them again.

II.

[...] Read more

poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
Added by Poetry Lover
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