Poem Hunter
The Dream
(10 July 1640 – 16 April 1689 / Wye, England)

The Dream

All trembling in my arms Aminta lay,
Defending of the bliss I strove to take;
Raising my rapture by her kind delay,
Her force so charming was and weak.
The soft resistance did betray the grant,
While I pressed on the heaven of my desires;
Her rising breasts with nimbler motions pant;
Her dying eyes assume new fires.
Now to the height of languishment she grows,
And still her looks new charms put on;
– Now the last mystery of Love she knows,
We sigh, and kiss: I waked, and all was done.

`Twas but a dream, yet by my heart I knew,
Which still was panting, part of it was true:
Oh how I strove the rest to have believed;
Ashamed and angry to be undeceived!

User Rating: 3,0 / 5 ( 40 votes ) 9

Comments (9)

Tearful Beauty! Bittersweet...
Beautiful! :)
Lovely dream written with great skill.......
Passion in dream grows palpitation of heart even when comes out of the spell of dream!
A poem with superb rhyme and rhythm as also with a captivating dream. Thanks for sharing it here.
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