Time poems
/ page 115 of 792 /"The thick golden stream of honey took so long"
© Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
1: The thick golden stream of honey took so long
To pour, our host had time to say:
"Here in the dismal Taurides, where fate has brought us,
We don't get bored at all" -- and she looked over her shoulder.
Father Death Blues
© Allen Ginsberg
Hey Father Death, I'm flying home
Hey poor man, you're all alone
Hey old daddy, I know where I'm going
The Sower
© Mathilde Blind
The winds had hushed at last as by command;
The quiet sky above,
With its grey clouds spread oer the fallow land,
Sat brooding like a dove.
London Types: News Boy
© William Ernest Henley
Take any station, pavement, circus, corner,
Where men their styles of print may call or choose,
The Earth-Spirit
© William Ellery Channing
Then spoke the Spirit of the Earth,
Her gentle voice like a soft water's song--
Street Song
© Thom Gunn
I am too young to grow a beard
But yes man it was me you heard
In dirty denim and dark glasses.
I look through everyone who passes
But ask him clear, I do not plead,
Keys Lids acid and speed.
An Unfortunate Likeness
© William Schwenck Gilbert
I'VE painted SHAKESPEARE all my life -
"An infant" (even then at "play"!)
"A boy," with stage-ambition rife,
Then "Married to ANN HATHAWAY."
Witchery Knows!
© William Henry Ogilvie
Witchery knows what it means
When the oats and the barley, the wheat and the beans,
Earth And Man
© George Meredith
On her great venture, Man,
Earth gazes while her fingers dint the breast
Which is his well of strength, his home of rest,
And fair to scan.
Spring
© Francis Ledwidge
Once more the lark with song and speed
Cleaves through the dawn, his hurried bars^;
Fall, like the flute of Ganymede
Twirling and whistling from the stars.
Don Juan: Canto The Ninth
© George Gordon Byron
Oh, Wellington! (or 'Villainton'--for Fame
Sounds the heroic syllables both ways;
Buckle In
© Edgar Albert Guest
JUST about the time the clouds are blackest
Let your thoughts go roving to the sun,
The Sydney International Exhibition
© Henry Kendall
Now, while Orion, flaming south, doth set
A shining foot on hills of wind and wet
The Horkey
© Robert Bloomfield
What gossips prattled in the sun,
Who talk'd him fairly down,
Up, memory! tell; 'tis Suffolk fun,
And lingo of their own.
Aunty
© Edgar Albert Guest
I'm sorry for a feller if he hasn't any aunt,
To let him eat and do the things his mother says he can't.
An aunt to come a visitin' or one to go and see
Is just about the finest kind of lady there could be.
Of course she's not your mother, an' she hasn't got her ways,
But a part that's most important in a feller's life she plays.
I Said To The Wanting-Creature Inside Me
© Kabir
I said to the wanting-creature inside me:
What is this river you want to cross?
There are no travelers on the river-road, and no road.
Do you see anyone moving about on that bank, or resting?
Griselda: A Society Novel In Verse - Chapter I
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
And thus I first beheld her, standing calm
In the swayed crowd upon her husband's arm,
One opera night, the centre of all eyes,
So proud she seemed, so fair, so sweet, so wise.
Some one behind me whispered ``Lady L.!
His Lordship too! and thereby hangs a tale.''