Time poems
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Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 2. The Sicilian's Tale; The Bell of Atri
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
He sold his horses, sold his hawks and hounds,
Rented his vineyards and his garden-grounds,
Kept but one steed, his favorite steed of all,
To starve and shiver in a naked stall,
And day by day sat brooding in his chair,
Devising plans how best to hoard and spare.
The Lagoon
© Roderic Quinn
WE crept through reed-beds wet with dew,
The sun went down in gold;
Hoisting her round triumphantly,
The moon showed red and bold.
A Parable
© James Russell Lowell
Worn and footsore was the Prophet,
When he gained the holy hill;
'God has left the earth,' he murmured,
'Here his presence lingers still.
They Didnt Meet
© Anna Akhmatova
They didn't meet me, roamed,
On steps with lanterns bright.
I entered quiet home
In murky, pail moonlight.
Song. "The moment must come, when the hands that unite"
© Frances Anne Kemble
The moment must come, when the hands that unite
In the firm clasp of friendship, will sever;
When Day Is Done
© Edgar Albert Guest
When day is done and the night slips down,
And I've turned my back on the busy town,
And come once more to the welcome gate
Where the roses nod and the children wait,
I tell myself as I see them smile
That life is good and its tasks worth while.
Alfred. Book III.
© Henry James Pye
Fix'd on the arid spot, whose scanty bounds
On every side the deep morass surrounds,
The monarch, and his martial friend, with care,
'Gainst close surprise and bold attack prepare;
Exert each art their safety to ensure,
And every pass, with wary eye, secure.
Mostly Slavonic
© Henry Lawson
But they never dreamed, the brainless, boors that used to sneer and scoff,
That the dreamy lad beside themknown as Dutchy Mickyloff
Was a genius and a poet, and a Manno matter which
Was the Czar of all the Russias!Peter Michaelovich.
Fish Food
© John Brooks Wheelwright
you drank deep as Thor, did you think of milk or wine?
Did you drink blood, while you drank the salt deep?
Saint Oluf (From The Old Danish)
© George Borrow
St. Oluf was a mighty king,
Who ruld the Northern land;
The holy Christian faith he preachd,
And taught it, sword in hand.
Gregory Parable, LL.D.
© William Schwenck Gilbert
He knew no guile, this simple man,
No worldly wile, or plot, or plan,
Except that plot of freehold land
That held the cot, and MARY, and
Her worthy father, named by me
GREGORY PARABLE, LL.D.
The Intellectual
© Karl Shapiro
The man behind the book may not be man,
His own man or the books or yet the times,
But still be whole, deciding what he can
In praise of politics or German rimes;
Change
© Muriel Stuart
CHANGE shall accustom me in after years
To kingdom's builded on life's overthrow;
Sancho Sanchez
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Sancho Sanchez lay a--dying in the house of Mariquita,
For his life ebbed with the ebbing of the red wound in his side.
And he lay there as they left him when he came from the Corrida
In his gold embroidered jacket and his red cloak and his pride.
The Beautiful Blue Danube
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
They drift down the hall together;
He smiles in her lifted eyes;
Like waves of that mighty river,
The strains of the "Danube" rise.
The Faithful Few: An Ode
© William Hamilton
While Pow'r triumphant bears unrival'd Sway,
Propt by the Aid of all-prevailing Gold;
While bold Corruption blasts the Face of Day,
And Men, in Herds, are offer'd to be sold;
Select, Urania, from the venal Throng,
The Faithful Few, to grace the deathless Song!
Some Songs After Master Singers
© James Whitcomb Riley
A little maid, of summers four--
Did you compute her years,--
And yet how infinitely more
To me her age appears:
Abram Morrison
© John Greenleaf Whittier
'Midst the men and things which will
Haunt an old man's memory still,
Drollest, quaintest of them all,
With a boy's laugh I recall
Good old Abram Morrison.
