Time poems
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The Year's End
© Roderic Quinn
THE voices of the wind and wave
They sigh the Old Year's requiem;
The dead are calling from the grave
Good friends, a little space I crave
Ibn Kolthum
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Ha! The bowl! Fill it high, a fair morning wine--cup!
Leave we naught of the lees of Andarína.
Rise, pour forth, be it mixed, let it foam like saffron!
tempered thus will we drink it, ay, free--handed.
Stellas Birth-Day.1719-20
© Jonathan Swift
All travellers at first incline
Where'er they see the fairest sign
Song II
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
Oh roses for the flush of youth,
And laurel for the perfect prime;
But pluck an ivy branch for me
Grown old before my time.
Ode VI: To William Hall, Esquire: With The Works Of Chaulieu
© Mark Akenside
I.
Attend to Chaulieu's wanton lyre;
Lemnos Revisited
© Leon Gellert
Lemnos! Lemnos! Thine enfolding arms
Have held too much, they patterned hills are over shorn
First Sunday After Christmas
© John Keble
'Tis true, of old the unchanging sun
His daily course refused to run,
The pale moon hurrying to the west
Paused at a mortal's call, to aid
The avenging storm of war, that laid
Seven guilty realms at once on earth's defiled breast.
The Task: Book III. -- The Garden
© William Cowper
As one who, long in thickets and in brakes
Entangled, winds now this way and now that
The Undiscovered Country
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Still, though he search from shore to distant shore,
And no strange realms, no unlocated plains
Are left for his attainment and control,
Yet is there one more kingdom to explore.
Go, know thyself, O man! there yet remains
The undiscovered country of thy soul!
O Never Say That I Was False of Heart
© William Shakespeare
O never say that I was false of heart,
Though absence seem'd my flame to qualify:
As easy might I from myself depart
As from my soul, which in thy breast doth lie;
The Aged Lover Renounceth Love
© Thomas Vaux
. I loathe that I did love,
In youth that I thought sweet;
Fiddler Of Dooney
© William Butler Yeats
WHEN I play on my fiddle in Dooney.
Folk dance like a wave of the sea;
A Mountain Storm
© Katharine Lee Bates
OUR blue sierras shone serene, sublime,
When ghostly shapes came crowding up the air,
The Statue Of The Dying Gladiator
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Oh! fire of soul! by servitude disgrac'd,
Perverted courage! energy debas'd!
Lost Rome! thy slave, expiring in the dust,
Tow'rs far above Patrician rank, august!
While that proud rank, insatiate, could survey
Pageants that stain'd with blood each festal day!
The Song Of Hiawatha VII: Hiawatha's Sailing
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
"Give me of your bark, O Birch-tree!
Of your yellow bark, O Birch-tree!
The Peaks Of Valor
© Edgar Albert Guest
These are the peaks of valor; keeping clean your father's name,
Too brave for petty profit to risk the brand of shame,
Adventuring for the future, yet mindful of the past,
For God, for country and for home, still valorous to the last.
Asphalt
© Conrad Aiken
Light your cigarette, then, in this shadow,
And talk to her, your arm engaged with hers.
Heavily over your heads the eaten maple
In the dead air of August strains and stirs.
Alice And The White Knight
© Lewis Carroll
Alice was walking beside the White Knight in Looking Glass Land.
"You are sad." the Knight said in an anxious tone: "let me sing you a song to comfort you."
And Here The Hermit Sat
© William Ellery Channing
And here the hermit sat, and told his beads,
And stroked his flowing locks, red as the fire,
