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Famous Short Dream Poems

Famous Short Dream Poems. Short Dream Poetry by Famous Poets. A collection of the all-time best Dream short poems

Other Short Poem Pages

More great short poems below.

Dream | Short Famous Poems and Poets

by Emily Dickinson

Within that little Hive

 Within that little Hive
Such Hints of Honey lay
As made Reality a Dream
And Dreams, Reality --

by Emily Dickinson

The Suburbs of a Secret

 The Suburbs of a Secret
A Strategist should keep,
Better than on a Dream intrude
To scrutinize the Sleep.

by Ogden Nash

My Dream

 This is my dream, 
It is my own dream, 
I dreamt it.
I dreamt that my hair was kempt.
Then I dreamt that my true love unkempt it.

by Omar Khayyam

Why spend life in vainglorious essay

Why spend life in vainglorious essay
All Being and Not-being to survey?
Since Death is ever pressing at your heels,
'Tis best to drink or dream your life away.

by Li Po

Quiet Night Thoughts

 Before my bed
there is bright moonlight
So that it seems
Like frost on the ground:

Lifting my head
I watch the bright moon,
Lowering my head
I dream that I'm home.

by Robert Frost


 No ship of all that under sail or steam
Have gathered people to us more and more
But Pilgrim-manned the Mayflower in a dream
Has been her anxious convoy in to shore.

by Omar Khayyam

This world a hollow pageant you should deem;

This world a hollow pageant you should deem;
All wise men know things are not what they seem;
Be of good cheer, and drink, and so shake off
This vain illusion of a baseless dream.

by Elinor Wylie

The Pekingese

 For a picture

This Pekingese, that makes the sand-grains spin, 
Is digging little tunnels to Pekin: 
Dream him emerging in a porcelain cave 
Where wounded dragons stain a pearly wave.

by Walter de la Mare


 Ever, ever
Stir and shiver
The reeds and rushes
By the river:
Ever, ever,
As if in dream,
The lone moon's silver
Sleeks the stream.
What old sorrow, What lost love, Moon, reeds, rushes, Dream you of?

by Stephen Crane

Ay workman make me a dream

 Ay, workman, make me a dream,
A dream for my love.
Cunningly weave sunlight, Breezes, and flowers.
Let it be of the cloth of meadows.
And -- good workman -- And let there be a man walking thereon.

by Omar Khayyam

In springtime let me sit upon the edge of a broad

In springtime let me sit upon the edge of a broad
field with one fair girl, and wine in plenty if wine is at
hand. Though this may culpable be thought, I should
be worse than any dog did I not dream of Paradise.

by A E Housman

The rainy Pleiads wester

 The rainy Pleiads wester,
Orion plunges prone,
The stroke of midnight ceases
And I lie down alone.
The rainy Pleiads wester, And seek beyond the sea The head that I shall dream of That will not dream of me.

by Vachel Lindsay

The Encyclopaedia

 "If I could set the moon upon
This table," said my friend, 
"Among the standard poets 
And brouchures without end, 
And noble prints of old Japan,
How empty they would seem,
By that encyclopaedia
Of whim and glittering dream.

by Omar Khayyam

Put a cup of wine in my hand, for my heart is inflamed,

Put a cup of wine in my hand, for my heart is inflamed,
and my life slips away as quicksilver. Arise,
then, for the favors of fortune are only a dream; arise,
for the fire of thy youth is running away like the water
of a torrent.

by Emily Dickinson

Let me not mar that perfect Dream

 Let me not mar that perfect Dream
By an Auroral stain
But so adjust my daily Night
That it will come again.
Not when we know, the Power accosts -- The Garment of Surprise Was all our timid Mother wore At Home -- in Paradise.

by Donald Justice

A Map Of Love

 Your face more than others' faces
Maps the half-remembered places
I have come to I while I slept—
Continents a dream had kept
Secret from all waking folk
Till to your face I awoke,
And remembered then the shore,
And the dark interior.

by Robert Burns

534. Song—Fragment—Why tell the lover

 WHY, why tell thy lover
 Bliss he never must enjoy”?
Why, why undeceive him,
 And give all his hopes the lie?
O why, while fancy, raptur’d slumbers,
 “Chloris, Chloris” all the theme,
Why, why would’st thou, cruel—
 Wake thy lover from his dream?

by Carl Sandburg


 NANCY HANKS dreams by the fire;
Dreams, and the logs sputter,
And the yellow tongues climb.
Red lines lick their way in flickers.
Oh, sputter, logs.
Oh, dream, Nancy.
Time now for a beautiful child.
Time now for a tall man to come.

by Dylan Thomas

Clown In The Moon

 My tears are like the quiet drift
Of petals from some magic rose;
And all my grief flows from the rift
Of unremembered skies and snows.
I think, that if I touched the earth, It would crumble; It is so sad and beautiful, So tremulously like a dream.

by Langston Hughes

Dream Deferred

 What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
Like a raisin in the sun?

Or fester like a sore--
And then run?

Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?

by Emily Dickinson

Doom is the House without the Door

 Doom is the House without the Door --
'Tis entered from the Sun --
And then the Ladder's thrown away,
Because Escape -- is done --

'Tis varied by the Dream
Of what they do outside --
Where Squirrels play -- and Berries die --
And Hemlocks -- bow -- to God --

by Robert Burns

441. Complimentary Epigram to Mrs. Riddell

 “PRAISE Woman still,” his lordship roars,
 “Deserv’d or not, no matter?”
But thee, whom all my soul adores,
 Ev’n Flattery cannot flatter:

Maria, all my thought and dream,
 Inspires my vocal shell;
The more I praise my lovely theme,
 The more the truth I tell.

by Randall Jarrell

The Death Of The Ball Turret Gunner

 From my mother's sleep I fell into the State,
And I hunched in its belly till my wet fur froze.
Six miles from earth, loosed from its dream of life, I woke to black flak and the nightmare fighters.
When I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose.

by William Butler Yeats

He Thinks Of Those Who Have Spoken Evil Of His Beloved

 Half close your eyelids, loosen your hair,
And dream about the great and their pride;
They have spoken against you everywhere,
But weigh this song with the great and their pride;
I made it out of a mouthful of air,
Their children's children shall say they have lied.

by Confucius


The sun is ever full and bright,
The pale moon waneth night by night.
Why should this be? My heart that once was full of light Is but a dying moon to-night.
But when I dream of thee apart, I would the dawn might lift my heart, O sun, to thee.