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User Rating: |
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9.0
/10
(29
votes)
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Where sunless rivers weep
Their waves into the deep,
She sleeps a charmed sleep:
Awake her not.
Led by a single star,
She came from very far
To seek where shadows are
Her pleasant lot.
She left the rosy morn,
She left the fields of corn,
For twilight cold and lorn
And water springs.
Through sleep, as through a veil,
She sees the sky look pale,
And hears the nightingale
That sadly sings.
Rest, rest, a perfect rest
Shed over brow and breast;
Her face is toward the west,
The purple land.
She cannot see the grain
Ripening on hill and plain;
She cannot feel the rain
Upon her hand.
Rest, rest, for evermore
Upon a mossy shore;
Rest, rest at the heart's core
Till time shall cease:
Sleep that no pain shall wake;
Night that no morn shall break
Till joy shall overtake
Her perfect peace.
Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Read poems about / on: sleep, purple, star, rain, peace, water, joy, pain, sky, night, dream, time, heart, river, spring
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Comments about this poem (Dream Land
by
Christina Georgina Rossetti
) |
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comments about this poem (Dream Land by
Christina Georgina Rossetti
)
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Ravi A
(7/29/2009 1:17:00 PM) |
Her dream land is perfectly poised. We can feel all the softnes about it. 'That single star..', see, the effect of the image. The opening lines are simply classic and the last lines really tell the true nature of her dream. Dream can be joy personified.
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Herman Chiu
(7/29/2009 12:25:00 PM) |
This poem is somewhat chilling, but the darkness, which makes up this dream land, is perfectly soft, so one does not feel cold at all. Very, very nice!
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Suchitra Bandi
(7/29/2009 11:40:00 AM) |
loved this poem.. I wish I was in this Dream Land..
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Liezel Van Zyl
(7/29/2009 8:19:00 AM) |
I really lived this poem. as wonderful as you write, i hope that one day i will have the talent that lies within you. thank you for sharing :)
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Kevin Straw
(7/29/2009 6:24:00 AM) |
A poem reflecting the fin de siècle sensibility which was (I google) 'the late 19th-century literary and artistic climate of sophistication, escapism, extreme aestheticism, world-weariness, and fashionable despair.' A chilling poem in some ways, but redeemed by the thought that after death there will be joy.
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Rafique Farooqi
(7/29/2009 3:11:00 AM) |
Beautifully written poem, thoiught provoking
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Raj Nandy
(12/31/2008 11:10:00 PM) |
LET US NOT START RATING CLASSIC POETS OF THOSE BYGONE YEARS -
LIKE: SWINBURN, ROSETTI, COLDRIDGE; OR EVEN SHAKESPEARE - FOR THAT MATTER, UNLESS OUT OF FALSE EGO, WE START TO EQUATE OURSELVES WITH THEM! OUR CRITICISM OR PRAISE WILL NOT REMOVE THE GOLDEN LUSTURE OR SHEEN FROM THEIR IMMORTAL COMPMOSITIONS! ! !
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Tohru Unger
(7/29/2008 1:25:00 AM) |
This poem was great. I could just picture it in my head. The words flowed so nicely too. It seemed like such a peaceful poem, but at the same time I couldn't help but think that the poem was about death? It seemed very sorrowful yet at peace with itself like it accepted the fact that it was the end, and that it would go willingly. It was truely wonderful and enchanting. Thank you for writing such a exquisit poem.
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Archie Langford
(7/29/2007 2:44:00 PM) |
I am a great fan of CGR I love REMBER ME snd this one
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Christina Georgina Rossetti
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