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Title: Notes on a Dream

Date of first publication: 1971

Author: Maxwell Anderson (1888-1959)

Date first posted: February 18, 2026

Date last updated: February 18, 2026

Faded Page eBook #20260232

This eBook was produced by: Mardi Desjardins, Cindy Beyer & the online Distributed Proofreaders Canada team at https://www.pgdpcanada.net

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Notes on a Dream


line drawing sketch of woman’s face

Gilda—Drawing by Maxwell Anderson, February 1959


Notes  On  A  Dream

 

 

by  Maxwell Anderson

 

 

 

Humanities Research Center    The University of Texas


Copyright © 1971 by Gilda Oakleaf Anderson

 

L.C. Card Number 70-633716

 

Distributed by the University of Texas Press


 
 
CONTENTS
 
 
For Gilda: I (August 1952)13
Triton (August 1952)15
Evadne (September 1952)17
Written, as You Will Notice, on a Day When There Was to Be No Phone Call (September 1952)19
For Gilda: II (October 1952)21
Here in the East (1952)23
For Gilda: III (1952)25
Dear Gilda (1952)27
Night-Thought (1953)29
Sometimes I See You (1953)31
For Gilda: IV (February 1954)33
Emotion Recollected in Tranquility (1954)35
Darling (1954)37
In Dream (1954)39
For Gilda: V (February 1956)41
Notes on a Dream (1957)43
For Gilda: VI (February 1958)45
Valentine for Gilda (February 1959)47

Notes  on  a  Dream


FOR GILDA: I

There was a noon when the noon rode all day

Above me, riding in the heat alone,

And all the signs were hopeless all the way,

And out of pain my thought had turned to stone.

The long inferno of the summer’s breath

Made my sad hearing deaf, my seeing blind,

But hotter and more searing the unfaith

At the world’s center that I left behind.

And on and on and on in double hell,

Driving and driven, never stopped or turned,

No surcease for me, not to be made well,

I drove forever, while the earth flamed and burned

That endless noon, till in a fiery place

I came upon the healing of your face.

Then the hot day was cool, and neither hell

Was mine, and the red blindness left my eyes,

And I could hear, and could begin to tell

My hurt, and I was one who dying dies

Into new life, for I could see you there,

Able to love me, able to love one dead,

Able to give me life by what you were,

Kissing my lips, holding my throbbing head.

Now that long distance and long absence falls

Between us, and we know how people change,

I stare here at the curtains and the walls,

And all that once was mine is gone and strange,

And all I do and all I hope to do

Is done for you and in the hope of you.

TRITON

Go well, oh little Triton, over the sea;

Slip between waves, slip between storm and wind,

Keep safe, whatever weather there may be,

And find good harbor at the journey’s end.

May they sleep well who trust your sails and spars,

All that you carry, and my girl, my own,

May she be certain, looking at the stars,

That I’m beside her, and she’s not alone.

Here in my room, going from word to word,

As you from wave to wave across the night,

I am aware of one who comes unheard

To sit with me in promise of delight;

And how we both can be here and there

Is mystery, yet I am there, she here.

EVADNE

Under this sky somewhere,

  Somewhere under this sky,

    Under the westering star,

I seek you out where you are,

  I find you out where you lie,

    Find you and kiss you there.

Nightly I find you out

  Under the westering sun,

    I kiss away fear and doubt,

Evadne, vanishing one,

  Under the westering light

    I find you, kiss you goodnight.

Lady of sadness, lost to sight,

  Lady of dark and fair,

    Under the westering light

I lay my head on your breast,

  I kiss your lips and your hair,

    I find you, kiss you goodnight.

Nightly, before I sleep,

  Early, before the dawn,

    I find you, and kiss you deep;

Under red sky, sailor’s warning,

  Under the wakening light,

    I find you, kiss you goodmorning.

  WRITTEN, AS YOU WILL NOTICE,
      ON A DAY WHEN
THERE WAS TO BE NO PHONE CALL

To the west, above an oak wood,

  Where the torn leaves hang brown,

The sun hangs dark in a cloudy hood

  And will soon go down,

Leaving darkness over this place—

  Its rhymes and rhyme—

Then, westering, touch on your face

  At your supper-time,

And plunge to the darkening sea

  When your day is done,

Leaving you dark, like me,

  Dark and alone.

Alone, and no voice tonight,

  No word, no call,

Only the earth in flight,

  The turning ball,

Turning against the sun

  Till it rise again

To another day begun

  In November rain,

Begun, and must be lived through

  Somehow, some way,

Till we speak again, and it’s you,

  And my night is day.

FOR GILDA: II

The robins

And the starlings

Trouble the dogwoods,

Eating the quinine-bitter red berries,

Among the red leaves.

(It’s autumn,

October autumn,

And my love so far away.)

Venus burned at sunset

Just above the horizon,

And followed down

After the sun.

(They went your way, my darling;

Would I could go with them.)

In another wood,

Another woodland,

Set among hills,

My love goes walking in the cool evening

Trying to remember my face,

Hearing my words.

(Sweet love, in little glimpses,

Your face comes to me,

And your voice in odds and ends of whispers,

Almost whispering that you love me,

Whispering a kiss goodnight.)

Would I could share these dogwoods with you,

Would I could share your woodland hills,

And the great star going down in the west—

Would I could follow,

Would I could put my head on your breast.

There only is rest.

HERE IN THE EAST

Here in the east the leaves begin to turn

Deep in the woods, orange and red and brown,

Evenings are chilly; it’s a time to burn

Hearth-fires; some close the house and move to town.

There are few flowers; only the roses still

Offer their changeless beauty into fall,

Yellow and crimson, till the first frosts kill

Petals and leaves, the winter taking all.

I look into the heart of this one bloom,

White, veined with red, and I see nothing here,

But a loved girl far in an unknown room,

In a far valley, bending warm and near,

Whispering—I am as near you as I seem,

For there is nothing stronger than a dream.

FOR GILDA: III

When I have seen the world’s great bridges span

Wide waters, and have heard men boast of one,

Longest of any ever built by man,

And how a million wires were slowly spun

To make its cables, then I think of you

And of the rainbow bridge between you and me,

Built in a night of spider-web and dust

But spanning the whole sky from sea to sea.

How frail it seems, how prone to accident,

How open to the storms of dark and change,

Yet the wild weathers our misfortunes sent

Against it, find it firm all the long range

From me to you, from you to me, and filled

With richer freight than bridges that men build.

DEAR GILDA

Have you waked in a night with no stars,

  Not one in the sky,

And felt your love far, oh, a world too far?

  Sweet, so have I.

Have you looked at the sun and the moon

  And known no light,

Only darkness at midnight and noon?

  I live in that night.

Have you sat and listened to mirth

  And nothing heard,

Only silence over the heavy earth

  For lack of a word?

For lack of a word from one away

  Too far, too far?

This is my case where I am today.

  Would I were where you are.

NIGHT-THOUGHT

The swift play of the children touched it first,

Comprehending other worlds than ours,

Admitting that there was no best or worst,

Only the eternal climb from dust to flowers,

The climb from cosmic dust to mammoth sun,

Suns in gestation, whirling in the dark

Millennia, till they burst one by one,

By millions, on each millionth shard a spark,

A spark in a dim cold-warm that must grow

A thousand centuries toward eyes and ears,

And memory, till it find the power to know

Vaguely, the record of its crawling years,

And guess among stars similar to these

Minds swarming through the universe like bees.

SOMETIMES I SEE YOU

Sometimes I see you at your dressing-table

With phials and jars and jewels under your hands,

Looking at your face, thinking, perhaps, Will he like me this way?

Or is it better now? turning to smile at one who stands

In the doorway, but still full of your thought, returning

To study your face, touching a strand of hair,

Wondering, would he like me better—? Darling,

Darling, I’ll like what I see when I am there.

Up and down the streets of this winter city

The people hurry by from place to place,

And I hurry too, forever seeking among them

A certain figure and a certain face.

Seeking, and will not find, and cannot find them,

Here, in this endless wash of faces and things,

Because you are there before your dressing-table

Turning on your finger symbolic rings.

And in all the world of streets and houses

And forms and faces passing before men’s eyes,

There is no face, no form, with magic for me

Save only you, lovely without disguise;

And I shall wander lonely and be homeless

Among all women and men, mile after mile,

Until you turn and see me in your doorway

And I see your smile.

FOR GILDA: IV

Do you remember, love,

  When the night was an aching desire,

And the day was an ache in the sky above

  And life was a fire

Consuming us both, and the air

  Was incandescent between

Us two, and what had been sullen there

  Flowered bright among the green?

This time was ours and was pain

  And sadness and terror,

Treading a path we could not retrace again

  If we chose in error,

Pain in the midst of delight,

  Delight that conquered doubt,

Till there came a night that was our night

  And the pain flickered out,

Leaving a steadily burning flame,

  Independent of sun,

Wild fire neither wild nor tame,

  Making us one.

EMOTION RECOLLECTED IN TRANQUILITY

Along the beach we went miserably walking, walking,

Where great waves stunned the sand,

And as we walked we were slowly, miserably, talking, talking,

No longer hand in hand.

Grimly we passed the backs of little places closing for the winter,

And there was nothing, nothing in our faces,

For we would be no more together. We had come to a dark end.

We met some friends who called merrily to us.

We were stony silent.

They said what’s the matter with you two?

And went on.

It was no worse or better when they were gone.

Nothing more was said.

Along the beach southward we went miserably walking, walking,

By the lunging sea,

And behind us nothingness came miserably stalking, stalking,

And the sunny waves were grey and heavy as lead.

We were married a little later and lived more happily than most,

Yes, much more happily;

For countless hours there was light on the water

And the days ran together

In honey-years under a honey west.

But what I remember sharpest is the emptiness of walking, walking,

Stunned and lost,

And all around the sad gulls dissonantly squawking, squawking,

In time long past.

DARLING

Darling,

When you’re away I’m lonely,

When you’re away there’s only

One cure for sadness—

It’s to hear your step returning,

To tremble where you’ve found me,

To feel your arms around me,

And to wake with you at morning—

And to wake with you at morning.

IN DREAM

We walked in the withered valleys

  Of Saturn, and saw the rings,

Covering half the sky, and you said,

  “These are impossible things,

We cannot be here, they do not happen,

  Yet they are more likely than the delight

We found in the crinkled valleys of despair

  In the night.”

It was dark in the desert; we walked

  There invisible;

We were bitten by snakes, side-winders. We kissed

  And we were well.

“This is impossible,” you said,

  “It is not true.”

Yet you were cured by me

  And I by you.

FOR GILDA: V

This brick house we bought together,

Painted white against the weather,

Snuggled close behind the walls,

Where tide rises and tide falls,

Where the flaming sunset rides

On the dark salt waves of tides,

Where with work and play and laughter

We go through days and what comes after,

Where we drink our evening wine,

This house—round about, above,

And the roots below—I love

Just because it’s yours and mine.

NOTES ON A DREAM

In the early morning,

When it was dark, and freezing rain

Clicked on the panes,

I woke from a dream, a dream of you,

And when my eyes grew used to the little light from the window

I could see the white of your pillow and your dark hair against it.

Then I remembered

That I had dreamed of you and me when we were young.

Your house was in a distant city

And I had come there, meeting your family for the first time.

They were shadowy,

But you were beautiful as you are now,

And my years had fallen away.

There was question in your eyes,

Why had I come there?

What would it mean?

And I knew that although we had been in love

One time together had been too brief to tell us

Whether our love would last.

You searched my eyes and I searched yours,

Then you smiled and we knew the answer,

And I woke and had no wish to sleep again.

FOR GILDA: VI

When you first came I do not know—

  The hour, the day, the year.

Nor in what far-off place we stood—

  Only your face is clear,

A delicate face among those met

  In a forgotten room,

The others long since faded now,

  Slipped into gloom.

Only that moment is engraved

  On the bright air,

Your face, seen first against the dark—

  You standing there.

VALENTINE FOR GILDA

The days are so different

  Since I met you!

So many ways to be happy,

  So many happy things to do!

Early in the morning

  All alone I begin to sing,

It’s like the difference

  Between February and spring!

I was living in an empty room,

  Suddenly there are flowers!

All the air is a honey perfume,

  And all the world is ours!

The streets are full

  Of coming and going!

My head is full

  Of loving and wooing!

I go hurrying, dancing, hurrying

  With gifts to bring to you!

And I can hear my heart beat, sweetheart.

  Saying, I love you,

  Saying, I love you,

  Saying, you love me too!

The years are so different

  Since I met you,

Every day is a holiday

  Whatever I have to do!

Even winter mornings

  Far away from the spring

I turn on the shower

  And lift a bad voice and sing!

I was living in a shut-up room,

  Suddenly there are flowers!

All the air is a gay perfume,

  And all the world is ours!

The streets are full

  Of coming and greeting,

My head is full

  Of our next meeting!

I go scurrying, dancing, hurrying

  With all my self to you!

And I can hear my heart beat, sweetheart,

  Saying, I love you,

  Saying, I love you,

  Saying, you love me too!


COLOPHON

 

750 copies have been printed on

Chillicothe’s Adena Text. The text is set in

Baskerville with Virtuosa for titling

Designed by William R. Holman


TRANSCRIBER NOTES

Misspelled words and printer errors have been corrected. Where multiple spellings occur, majority use has been employed.

Punctuation has been maintained except where obvious printer errors occur.

The Forward by Lawrence G. Avery can not be included due to copyright considerations.

 

[The end of Notes on a Dream by Maxwell Anderson]