Treasure Island

Richard Francis Burton

(1821 - 1890 / England)

In Sleep


NOT drowsihood and dreams and mere idless,
Nor yet the blessedness of strength regained,
Alone are in what men call sleep. The past,
My unsuspected soul, my parents’ voice,
The generations of my forbears, yea,
The very will of God himself are there
And potent-working: so that many a doubt
Is wiped away at daylight, many a soil
Washed cleanlier, many a puzzle riddled plain.
Strong, silent forces push my puny self
Towards unguessed issues, and the waking man
Rises a Greatheart where a Slave lay down.

Submitted: Thursday, January 01, 2004

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read poems about / on: strength, sleep, alone, god, rose, dream, work

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (In Sleep by Richard Francis Burton )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. A Dream Within A Dream
    Edgar Allan Poe

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Death.. My Ultimate Inspiration, Ruma Chaudhuri
  2. Further Trivializing Their Quick To Get .., Lawrence S. Pertillar
  3. let's get whimsical..., Mandolyn ...
  4. Mute, I Am Krakatoa
  5. Nuptial Vow, Tony Adah
  6. PIGHEADEDNESS 10 WORD, Beryl Dov
  7. mystic myth, subash parajuli
  8. CLOSE ENCOUNTERS, Beryl Dov
  9. FAITH 10 WORD, Beryl Dov
  10. JIHADISTS' EXORCISM, Gianni Pansensoy

Poem of the Day

poet Robert Burns

When biting Boreas, fell and doure,
Sharp shivers thro' the leafless bow'r;
When Phoebus gies a short-liv'd glow'r,
Far south the lift,
...... Read complete »

 

Modern Poem

poet Jessie Pope

 
[Hata Bildir]