John Hay

(8 October 1838 – 1 July 1905 / Salem, Indiana)

Dreams

Poem by John Hay

I love a woman tenderly,
But cannot know if she loves me.
I press her hand, her lips I kiss,
But still love's full assurance miss.
Our waking life forever seems
Cleft by a veil of doubt and dreams.

But love and night and sleep combine
In dreams to make her wholly mine.
A sure love lights her eyes' deep blue,
Her hands and lips are warm and true.
Always the fact unreal seems,
And truth I find alone in dreams.


Comments about Dreams by John Hay

  • Don KubickiDon Kubicki (9/29/2019 2:45:00 PM)

    It may well be that dreams reveal more truth than all the words of others.(Report)Reply

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Read poems about / on: kiss, woman, truth, sleep, alone, night, love, life, dream, women



Poem Submitted: Saturday, January 4, 2003