Lola Ridge

(December 12, 1873- May 19, 1941 / Dublin)

Lola Ridge Poems

81. Flotsam 2/8/2012
82. Mother 12/17/2014
83. Betty 2/8/2012
84. The Dream 1/13/2003

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Best Poem of Lola Ridge

The Dream

I have a dream
to fill the golden sheath
of a remembered day....
(Air
heavy and massed and blue
as the vapor of opium...
domes
fired in sulphurous mist...
sea
quiescent as a gray seal...
and the emerging sun
spurting up gold
over Sydney, smoke-pale, rising out of the bay....)
But the day is an up-turned cup
and its sun a junk of red iron
guttering in sluggish-green water--
where shall I pour my dream?

Read the full of The Dream

Art And Life

When Art goes bounding, lean,
Up hill-tops fired green
To pluck a rose for life.

Life like a broody hen
Cluck-clucks him back again.

But when Art, imbecile,
Sits old and chill

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