Poem Hunter
(27 January 1832 – 14 January 1898 / Cheshire)


Poem By Lewis Carroll

When midnight mists are creeping,
And all the land is sleeping,
Around me tread the mighty dead,
And slowly pass away.
Lo, warriors, saints, and sages,
From out the vanished ages,
With solemn pace and reverend face
Appear and pass away.
The blaze of noonday splendour,
The twilight soft and tender,
May charm the eye: yet they shall die,
Shall die and pass away.
But here, in Dreamland's centre,
No spoiler's hand may enter,
These visions fair, this radiance rare,
Shall never pass away.
I see the shadows falling,
The forms of old recalling;
Around me tread the mighty dead,
And slowly pass away.

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Comments (7)

This has to be my favorite!
Dreamland is the best poem
Hmmmm. I have now read two pieces by Carroll that really resonate with me. If I am not careful I might become a fan. This poem is remarkable and wants to linger in a person's memory despite the thought that things die and pass away
Beautiful imagery and nice articulation of words. Superb one
who knew he wrote serious verse, too