Dreams

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  "title": "Dreams",
  "author": "Edgar Allan Poe",
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  "language": "en",
  "summary": "This poetic piece explores the theme of dreams versus reality, pondering whether the ephemeral beauty of dreams, even those filled with sorrow, might be preferable to the harshness of real life. The narrator reflects on the intensity of dreams experienced in youth, marked by creativity and boundless imagination, contrasting them with the mundane and often cold reality of waking life. There is a yearning for dreams that reveal more beauty and joy than reality, with moments of dreamt happiness being cherished despite their fleeting nature. The poem suggests that dreams offer vivid and colorful experiences that far surpass the attainable hopes of waking existence, providing an escape and refuge where paradise and love are more palpable than ever realized in reality.",
  "clean_summary": "This poetic piece explores the theme of dreams versus reality, pondering whether the ephemeral beauty of dreams, even those filled with sorrow, might be preferable to the harshness of real life. The narrator reflects on the intensity of dreams experienced in youth, marked by creativity and boundless imagination, contrasting them with the mundane and often cold reality of waking life. There is a yearning for dreams that reveal more beauty and joy than reality, with moments of dreamt happiness being cherished despite their fleeting nature. The poem suggests that dreams offer vivid and colorful experiences that far surpass the attainable hopes of waking existence, providing an escape and refuge where paradise and love are more palpable than ever realized in reality.",
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    "Unlock the works of Edgar Allan Poe in one digital bundle — available now for just $9.99.",
    "Oh! that my young life were a lasting dream! My spirit not awak’ning, till the beam Of an Eternity should bring the morrow: Yes! tho’ that long dream were of hopeless sorrow, ’Twere better than the dull reality Of waking life to him whose heart shall be, And hath been ever, on the chilly earth, A chaos of deep passion from his birth!",
    "But should it be—that dream eternally Continuing—as dreams have been to me In my young boyhood—should it thus be given, ’Twere folly still to hope for higher Heaven! For I have revell’d, when the sun was bright In the summer sky; in dreamy fields of light, And left unheedingly my very heart In climes of mine imagining—apart From mine own home, with beings that have been Of mine own thought—what more could I have seen?",
    "’Twas once & only once & the wild hour From my remembrance shall not pass—some power Or spell had bound me—’twas the chilly wind Came o’er me in the night & left behind Its image on my spirit, or the moon Shone on my slumbers in her lofty noon Too coldly—or the stars—howe’er it was That dream was as that night wind—let it pass.",
    "I have been happy—tho’ but in a dream I have been happy—& I love the theme— Dreams! in their vivid colouring of life— As in that fleeting, shadowy, misty strife Of semblance with reality which brings To the delirious eye more lovely things Of Paradise & Love—& all our own! Than young Hope in his sunniest hour hath known."
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  "body_text": "Unlock the works of Edgar Allan Poe in one digital bundle — available now for just $9.99.\n\nOh! that my young life were a lasting dream! My spirit not awak’ning, till the beam Of an Eternity should bring the morrow: Yes! tho’ that long dream were of hopeless sorrow, ’Twere better than the dull reality Of waking life to him whose heart shall be, And hath been ever, on the chilly earth, A chaos of deep passion from his birth!\n\nBut should it be—that dream eternally Continuing—as dreams have been to me In my young boyhood—should it thus be given, ’Twere folly still to hope for higher Heaven! For I have revell’d, when the sun was bright In the summer sky; in dreamy fields of light, And left unheedingly my very heart In climes of mine imagining—apart From mine own home, with beings that have been Of mine own thought—what more could I have seen?\n\n’Twas once & only once & the wild hour From my remembrance shall not pass—some power Or spell had bound me—’twas the chilly wind Came o’er me in the night & left behind Its image on my spirit, or the moon Shone on my slumbers in her lofty noon Too coldly—or the stars—howe’er it was That dream was as that night wind—let it pass.\n\nI have been happy—tho’ but in a dream I have been happy—& I love the theme— Dreams! in their vivid colouring of life— As in that fleeting, shadowy, misty strife Of semblance with reality which brings To the delirious eye more lovely things Of Paradise & Love—& all our own! Than young Hope in his sunniest hour hath known.",
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    "Oh! that my young life were a lasting dream! My spirit not awak'ning, till the beam Of an Eternity should bring the morrow: Yes! tho' that long dream were of hopeless sorrow, 'Twere better than the dull reality Of waking life to him whose heart shall be, And hath been ever, on the chilly earth, A chaos of deep passion from his birth!",
    "But should it be - that dream eternally Continuing - as dreams have been to me In my young boyhood - should it thus be given, 'Twere folly still to hope for higher Heaven! For I have revell'd, when the sun was bright In the summer sky; in dreamy fields of light, And left unheedingly my very heart In climes of mine imagining - apart From mine own home, with beings that have been Of mine own thought - what more could I have seen?",
    "'Twas once & only once & the wild hour From my remembrance shall not pass - some power Or spell had bound me - 'twas the chilly wind Came o'er me in the night & left behind Its image on my spirit, or the moon Shone on my slumbers in her lofty noon Too coldly - or the stars - howe'er it was That dream was as that night wind - let it pass.",
    "I have been happy - tho' but in a dream I have been happy - & I love the theme - Dreams! in their vivid colouring of life - As in that fleeting, shadowy, misty strife Of semblance with reality which brings To the delirious eye more lovely things Of Paradise & Love - & all our own! Than young Hope in his sunniest hour hath known."
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  "clean_text": "Unlock the works of Edgar Allan Poe in one digital bundle - available now for just $9.99.\n\nOh! that my young life were a lasting dream! My spirit not awak'ning, till the beam Of an Eternity should bring the morrow: Yes! tho' that long dream were of hopeless sorrow, 'Twere better than the dull reality Of waking life to him whose heart shall be, And hath been ever, on the chilly earth, A chaos of deep passion from his birth!\n\nBut should it be - that dream eternally Continuing - as dreams have been to me In my young boyhood - should it thus be given, 'Twere folly still to hope for higher Heaven! For I have revell'd, when the sun was bright In the summer sky; in dreamy fields of light, And left unheedingly my very heart In climes of mine imagining - apart From mine own home, with beings that have been Of mine own thought - what more could I have seen?\n\n'Twas once & only once & the wild hour From my remembrance shall not pass - some power Or spell had bound me - 'twas the chilly wind Came o'er me in the night & left behind Its image on my spirit, or the moon Shone on my slumbers in her lofty noon Too coldly - or the stars - howe'er it was That dream was as that night wind - let it pass.\n\nI have been happy - tho' but in a dream I have been happy - & I love the theme - Dreams! in their vivid colouring of life - As in that fleeting, shadowy, misty strife Of semblance with reality which brings To the delirious eye more lovely things Of Paradise & Love - & all our own! Than young Hope in his sunniest hour hath known.",
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    "Oh! that my young life were a lasting dream! My spirit not awak'ning, till the beam Of an Eternity should bring the morrow: Yes! tho' that long dream were of hopeless sorrow, 'Twere better than the dull reality Of waking life to him whose heart shall be, And hath been ever, on the chilly earth, A chaos of deep passion from his birth!",
    "But should it be - that dream eternally Continuing - as dreams have been to me In my young boyhood - should it thus be given, 'Twere folly still to hope for higher Heaven! For I have revell'd, when the sun was bright In the summer sky; in dreamy fields of light, And left unheedingly my very heart In climes of mine imagining - apart From mine own home, with beings that have been Of mine own thought - what more could I have seen?",
    "'Twas once & only once & the wild hour From my remembrance shall not pass - some power Or spell had bound me - 'twas the chilly wind Came o'er me in the night & left behind Its image on my spirit, or the moon Shone on my slumbers in her lofty noon Too coldly - or the stars - howe'er it was That dream was as that night wind - let it pass.",
    "I have been happy - tho' but in a dream I have been happy - & I love the theme - Dreams! in their vivid colouring of life - As in that fleeting, shadowy, misty strife Of semblance with reality which brings To the delirious eye more lovely things Of Paradise & Love - & all our own! Than young Hope in his sunniest hour hath known."
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