“Who dreamed that beauty passes like a dream?
For these red lips, with all their mournful pride,
Mournful that no new wonder may betide,
Troy passed away in one high funeral gleam,
And Usna's children died.”
St. 1
The Rose (1893), The Rose of the World
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W.B. Yeats255
Irish poet and playwright 1865–1939Related quotes
“Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
"Life is but an empty dream!"”
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow A Psalm of Life
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.
St. 1.
A Psalm of Life (1839)
Vita Sackville-West (1892–1962) English writer and gardener
"Mariana In The North"
Orchard and Vineyard (1921)
Heath Ledger (1979–2008) Australian actor
Warner Bros., Heath Memorial http://thedarkknight.warnerbros.com/HeathMemorial.html, Warner Bros. Entertainment, Inc., distributor of The Dark Knight
“I tried to pass for nothing
But my dreams gave me away”
Conor Oberst (1980) American musician
If The Brakeman turns my way
Cassadaga (2007)
Edmund Clarence Stedman (1833–1908) American poet, critic, and essayist
"Elfin Song" (1850).
Context: What if there be a fated day
When the Faery Isle shall pass away,
And its beautiful groves and fountains seem
The myths of a long, delicious dream!
A century's joys shall first repay
Our hearts, for the evil of that day;
And the Elfin-King has sworn to wed
A daughter of Earth, whose child shall be,
By cross and water hallowe'd,
From the fairies' doom forever free.
What if there be a fated day!
It is far away! it is far away!
Maiden, fair Maiden, I, who sing
Of this summer isle am the island King.
George William Russell (1867–1935) Irish writer, editor, critic, poet, and artistic painter
The Nuts of Knowledge (1903)
“A people's dream died there. It was a beautiful dream.”
Black Elk (1863–1950) Oglala Lakota leader
Speaking of the Massacre at Wounded Knee.
Black Elk Speaks (1961)
Context: I did not know then how much was ended. When I look back now from this high hill of my old age, I can still see the butchered women and children lying heaped and scattered all along the crooked gulch as plain as when I saw them with eyes still young. And I can see that something else died there in the bloody mud, and was buried in the blizzard. A people's dream died there. It was a beautiful dream.
And I, to whom so great a vision was given in my youth, — you see me now a pitiful old man who has done nothing, for the nation's hoop is broken and scattered. There is no center any longer, and the sacred tree is dead.