'The Dream' by Lord Byron


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IOur life is twofold; Sleep hath its own world,
A boundary between the things misnamed
Death and existence: Sleep hath its own world,
And a wide realm of wild reality,
And dreams in their development have breath,
And tears, and tortures, and the touch of joy;
They leave a weight upon our waking thoughts,
They take a weight from off waking toils,
They do divide our being; they become
A portion of ourselves as of our time,
And look like heralds of eternity;
They pass like spirits of the past-they speak
Like sibyls of the future; they have power-The tyranny of pleasure and of pain;
They make us what we were not-what they will,
And shake us with the vision that's gone by,
The dread of vanished shadows-Are they so?
Is not the past all shadow?-What are they?
Creations of the mind?-The mind can make
Substances, and people planets of its own
With beings brighter than have been, and give
A breath to forms which can outlive all flesh.
I would recall a vision which I dreamed
Perchance in sleep-for in itself a thought,
A slumbering thought, is capable of years,
And curdles a long life into one hour.III saw two beings in the hues of youth
Standing upon a hill, a gentle hill,
Green and of mild declivity, the last
As 'twere the cape of a long ridge of such,
Save that there was no sea to lave its base,
But a most living landscape, and the wave
Of woods and corn-fields, and the abodes of men
Scattered at intervals, and wreathing smoke
Arising from such rustic roofs: the hill
Was crowned with a peculiar diadem
Of trees, in circular array, so fixed,
Not by the sport of nature, but of man:
These two, a maiden and a youth, were there
Gazing-the one on all that was beneath
Fair as herself-but the boy gazed on her;
And both were young, and one was beautiful:
And both were young-yet not alike in youth.
As the sweet moon on the horizon's verge,
The maid was on the eve of womanhood;
The boy had fewer summers, but his heart
Had far outgrown his years, and to his eye
There was but one beloved face on earth,
And that was shining on him; he had looked
Upon it till it could not pass away;
He had no breath, no being, but in hers:
She was his voice; he did not speak to her,
But trembled on her words; she was his sight,
For his eye followed hers, and saw with hers,
Which coloured all his objects;-he had ceased
To live within himself: she was his life,
The ocean to the river of his thoughts,
Which terminated all; upon a tone,
A touch of hers, his blood would ebb and flow,
And his cheek change tempestuously-his heart
Unknowing of its cause of agony.
But she in these fond feelings had no share:
Her sighs were not for him; to her he was
Even as a brother-but no more; 'twas much,
For brotherless she was, save in the name
Her infant friendship had bestowed on him;
Herself the solitary scion left
Of a time-honoured race.-It was a name
Which pleased him, and yet pleased him not-and why?
Time taught him a deep answer-when she loved
Another; even now she loved another,
And on the summit of that hill she stood
Looking afar if yet her lover's steed
Kept pace with her expectancy, and flew.IIIA change came o'er the spirit of my dream.
There was an ancient mansion, and before
Its walls there was a steed caparisoned:
Within an antique Oratory stood
The Boy of whom I spake;-he was alone,
And pale, and pacing to and fro: anon
He sate him down, and seized a pen, and traced
Words which I could not guess of; then he leaned
His bowed head on his hands and shook, as 'twere
With a convulsion-then rose again,
And with his teeth and quivering hands did tear
What he had written, but he shed no tears.
And he did calm himself, and fix his brow
Into a kind of quiet: as he paused,
The Lady of his love re-entered there;
She was serene and smiling then, and yet
She knew she was by him beloved; she knew-For quickly comes such knowledge-that his heart
Was darkened with her shadow, and she saw
That he was wretched, but she saw not all.
He rose, and with a cold and gentle grasp
He took her hand; a moment o'er his face
A tablet of unutterable thoughts
Was traced, and then it faded, as it came;
He dropped the hand he held, and with slow steps
Retired, but not as bidding her adieu,
For they did part with mutual smiles; he passed
From out the massy gate of that old Hall,
And mounting on his steed he went his way;
And ne'er repassed that hoary threshold more.IVA change came o'er the spirit of my dream.
The Boy was sprung to manhood: in the wilds
Of fiery climes he made himself a home,
And his Soul drank their sunbeams; he was girt
With strange and dusky aspects; he was not
Himself like what he had been; on the sea
And on the shore he was a wanderer;
There was a mass of many images
Crowded like waves upon me, but he was
A part of all; and in the last he lay
Reposing from the noontide sultriness,
Couched among fallen columns, in the shade
Of ruined walls that had survived the names
Of those who reared them; by his sleeping side
Stood camels grazing, and some goodly steeds
Were fastened near a fountain; and a man,
Glad in a flowing garb, did watch the while,
While many of his tribe slumbered around:
And they were canopied by the blue sky,
So cloudless, clear, and purely beautiful,
That God alone was to be seen in heaven.VA change came o'er the spirit of my dream.
The Lady of his love was wed with One
Who did not love her better: in her home,
A thousand leagues from his,-her native home,
She dwelt, begirt with growing Infancy,
Daughters and sons of Beauty,-but behold!
Upon her face there was a tint of grief,
The settled shadow of an inward strife,
And an unquiet drooping of the eye,
As if its lid were charged with unshed tears.
What could her grief be?-she had all she loved,
And he who had so loved her was not there
To trouble with bad hopes, or evil wish,
Or ill-repressed affliction, her pure thoughts.
What could her grief be?-she had loved him not,
Nor given him cause to deem himself beloved,
Nor could he be a part of that which preyed
Upon her mind-a spectre of the past.VIA change came o'er the spirit of my dream.
The Wanderer was returned.-I saw him stand
Before an altar-with a gentle bride;
Her face was fair, but was not that which made
The Starlight of his Boyhood;-as he stood
Even at the altar, o'er his brow there came
The selfsame aspect and the quivering shock
That in the antique Oratory shook
His bosom in its solitude; and then-As in that hour-a moment o'er his face
The tablet of unutterable thoughts
Was traced-and then it faded as it came,
And he stood calm and quiet, and he spoke
The fitting vows, but heard not his own words,
And all things reeled around him; he could see
Not that which was, nor that which should have been-But the old mansion, and the accustomed hall,
And the remembered chambers, and the place,
The day, the hour, the sunshine, and the shade,
All things pertaining to that place and hour,
And her who was his destiny, came back
And thrust themselves between him and the light;
What business had they there at such a time?VIIA change came o'er the spirit of my dream.
The Lady of his love;-Oh! she was changed,
As by the sickness of the soul; her mind
Had wandered from its dwelling, and her eyes,
They had not their own lustre, but the look
Which is not of the earth; she was become
The queen of a fantastic realm; her thoughts
Were combinations of disjointed things;
And forms impalpable and unperceived
Of others' sight familiar were to hers.
And this the world calls frenzy; but the wise
Have a far deeper madness, and the glance
Of melancholy is a fearful gift;
What is it but the telescope of truth?
Which strips the distance of its fantasies,
And brings life near in utter nakedness,
Making the cold reality too real!VIIIA change came o'er the spirit of my dream.
The Wanderer was alone as heretofore,
The beings which surrounded him were gone,
Or were at war with him; he was a mark
For blight and desolation, compassed round
With Hatred and Contention; Pain was mixed
In all which was served up to him, until,
Like to the Pontic monarch of old days,
He fed on poisons, and they had no power,
But were a kind of nutriment; he lived
Through that which had been death to many men,
And made him friends of mountains; with the stars
And the quick Spirit of the Universe
He held his dialogues: and they did teach
To him the magic of their mysteries;
To him the book of Night was opened wide,
And voices from the deep abyss revealed
A marvel and a secret.-Be it so.IXMy dream is past; it had no further change.
It was of a strange order, that the doom
Of these two creatures should be thus traced out
Almost like a reality-the one
To end in madness-both in misery.

Editor 1 Interpretation

Lord Byron's "The Dream": A Journey into the Subconscious

If you're a fan of Romantic poetry, then you've most likely heard of Lord Byron, the British poet who was notorious for his wild lifestyle and romantic escapades. But what you may not know is that he was also an incredibly talented writer, capable of weaving intricate imagery and emotion into his work. One such example is his poem "The Dream," a surreal journey through the depths of the subconscious.

The Setting

The poem begins with a description of the speaker's dream world, a place where "the sky was dark and the wind was cold." This sets a somber tone that permeates the entire poem, as if the speaker is trapped in a world of his own creation. The use of the word "dream" is significant, as it immediately signals to the reader that this is not reality, but a distorted version of it.

The Characters

The speaker is joined by a mysterious figure, a woman who is described as having "hair like the hyacinth's purple" and "eyes like the Arabian gazelle." This woman represents the speaker's desires and fears, his deepest subconscious thoughts. She is seductive and alluring, but also dangerous and unpredictable.

The Themes

At its core, "The Dream" is a poem about the power of the subconscious mind. The speaker is constantly in flux, his emotions and thoughts shifting with each passing moment. He is trying to make sense of the world around him, but is constantly thwarted by the unpredictable nature of his own mind.

One theme that emerges from the poem is the idea of control. The speaker is trying to control his own mind, to make sense of his dreams and desires. But he quickly realizes that he is powerless against the forces that are driving him. This is exemplified by the woman in the poem, who represents the uncontrollable nature of the subconscious. She lures the speaker in with her beauty and sensuality, but also leads him down a dangerous path.

Another theme that emerges from the poem is the idea of mortality. The speaker is constantly aware of his own mortality, and is haunted by the idea of death. He sees death in everything around him, from the decaying leaves on the ground to the "ghosts of the dying year." This fear of death is particularly poignant in the final stanza of the poem, where the speaker laments the passing of time and the inevitability of his own death.

The Imagery

One of the most striking aspects of "The Dream" is the vivid imagery that Lord Byron employs. From the "hyacinth's purple" hair of the woman to the "pale, cold moon" in the sky, every detail paints a picture of a world that is both beautiful and haunting. The use of color is particularly effective, with shades of purple, gold, and blue creating a dreamlike atmosphere.

The imagery also serves to underscore the themes of the poem. The decaying leaves and dying year represent the passage of time and the inevitability of death. The black clouds and cold wind represent the speaker's fear and uncertainty. And the woman's beauty and sensuality represent the allure of the subconscious, the desire to explore the unknown.

The Structure

"The Dream" is a poem that is divided into six stanzas, each with four lines. This creates a sense of symmetry and balance, as if the world of the dream is ordered and controlled. However, this sense of order is quickly shattered by the unpredictable nature of the subconscious, as the speaker's thoughts and emotions shift with each passing stanza.

The use of rhyme and meter also adds to the poem's sense of structure. The rhyme scheme is ABAB, which creates a sense of repetition and stability. And the meter is iambic tetrameter, which gives the poem a sense of rhythm and flow.

The Conclusion

Lord Byron's "The Dream" is a haunting journey into the depths of the subconscious. It is a poem that explores the themes of control, mortality, and the power of the unknown. The vivid imagery and structure create a dreamlike atmosphere that draws the reader in, while the themes and characters keep them engaged. Overall, "The Dream" is a masterpiece of Romantic poetry, and a testament to Lord Byron's talent as a writer.

Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation

The Dream: A Masterpiece of Lord Byron

Lord Byron, one of the most celebrated poets of the Romantic era, is known for his evocative and powerful poetry. His works are characterized by their emotional intensity, vivid imagery, and lyrical beauty. Among his many masterpieces, "The Dream" stands out as a remarkable example of his poetic genius. This poem is a complex and multi-layered work that explores themes of love, loss, and mortality. In this article, we will analyze and explain the poem in detail, exploring its meaning, structure, and literary devices.

The poem begins with a description of a dream that the speaker had. In this dream, he sees a beautiful woman who he loves deeply. The speaker is filled with joy and happiness as he spends time with her. However, the dream takes a dark turn when the woman suddenly dies. The speaker is devastated by her loss and is consumed by grief. He spends the rest of the dream wandering through a desolate landscape, searching for his lost love. The poem ends with the speaker waking up from the dream, still filled with sorrow and longing.

The poem is structured in four stanzas, each with six lines. The rhyme scheme is ABABCC, with the final couplet providing a sense of closure to each stanza. The use of rhyme and meter creates a musical quality to the poem, enhancing its emotional impact. The poem is written in iambic tetrameter, with four stressed syllables per line. This creates a steady and rhythmic flow to the poem, which adds to its dreamlike quality.

The poem is filled with vivid and evocative imagery that creates a powerful emotional impact. The woman in the dream is described as "fair as thou art, / And young and light as thou art fair." This description emphasizes her beauty and youth, which makes her sudden death all the more tragic. The landscape that the speaker wanders through is described as "a waste of deserts drear," which creates a sense of loneliness and despair. The use of imagery in the poem helps to create a vivid and immersive dreamlike atmosphere.

The poem also makes use of a number of literary devices to enhance its emotional impact. One of the most notable of these is repetition. The phrase "And then I dreamt" is repeated throughout the poem, emphasizing the dreamlike quality of the narrative. The repetition of the phrase "I loved" also emphasizes the depth of the speaker's feelings for the woman in the dream. The use of repetition creates a sense of rhythm and musicality to the poem, which adds to its emotional impact.

Another literary device used in the poem is alliteration. The phrase "young and light" in the first stanza is an example of alliteration, as is the phrase "waste of deserts drear" in the third stanza. Alliteration creates a sense of musicality and rhythm to the poem, which enhances its emotional impact.

The poem also makes use of symbolism to convey its themes. The woman in the dream can be seen as a symbol of love and beauty, while her sudden death represents the impermanence of life. The desolate landscape that the speaker wanders through can be seen as a symbol of the emptiness and despair that he feels after losing his love. The use of symbolism helps to create a deeper and more complex meaning to the poem.

The themes of love, loss, and mortality are central to the poem. The speaker's love for the woman in the dream is intense and all-consuming, which makes her sudden death all the more tragic. The poem explores the idea that love is fleeting and impermanent, and that death is an inevitable part of life. The speaker's grief and despair after losing his love are palpable, and the poem conveys a sense of the emptiness and loneliness that he feels.

The Dream is a remarkable example of Lord Byron's poetic genius. The poem is a complex and multi-layered work that explores themes of love, loss, and mortality. The use of vivid imagery, repetition, alliteration, and symbolism creates a powerful emotional impact that lingers long after the poem has been read. The Dream is a timeless work of poetry that continues to resonate with readers today, and it is a testament to Lord Byron's enduring legacy as one of the greatest poets of the Romantic era.

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