William Stanley Braithwaite
Madame Of Dreams - Poem by William Stanley Braithwaite
To John Russell Hayes
KNOW a household made of pure delight,
That sits within a garden of quietness:
A welcomed visitor by day or night,
I win a refuge from life's storm and stress.
Ah, here no footfalls cease and then resume,
Nor sounds of closing doors nor creaking beams;
And throned within her favorite gold room
Amid the roses' perfume and the gloom,
I greet my smiling hostess, Madame of Dreams.
I know not how I won so dear a friend,
I know not of her family or her race;
Her voice is a sweet music without end
Unfolding the wistful beauty of her face.
She has known all the world s great tragedies ---
Was at the ruins of Troy and Actium;
And her deep heart holds many memories
That are the ghosts of countless aching sighs
Dead lovers uttered ere their lips grew dumb.
She seems so old from her experience ---
With Egypt's queen she sailed along the Nile ---
She heard Demosthenes great eloquence ---
Saw Camelot melt 'neath Arthur s golden smile.
But Time has dealt with her as with the sea,
Whereon it leaves not any scars nor seams;
And like a bud that breaks at last to be
A faultless rose June s dews and suns decree ---
Beauty and Youth have crowned Madame of
Comments about Madame Of Dreams by William Stanley Braithwaite
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You