Time poems
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Eleventh Song
© Sir Philip Sidney
"Who is it that this dark nightUnderneath my window plaineth?"It is one who from thy sightBeing, ah, exil'd, disdainethEvery other vulgar light.
This is the house of Bedlam
© Elizabeth Bishop
This is the time
of the tragic man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
Astrophel and Stella: Eleuenth Song
© Sir Philip Sidney
Who is it that this darke night,Vnderneath my window playneth?It is one who from thy sight,Being (ah) exild, disdaynethEuery other vulgar light
Astrophel and Stella: Eight Song
© Sir Philip Sidney
In a groue most rich of shade,Where birds wanton musicke made,May then yong his pide weedes showing,New perfumed with flowers fresh growing, Astrophel with Stella sweete,Did for mutuall comfort meet,Both within themselues oppressed,But each in the other blessed
Astrophel and Stella: 105
© Sir Philip Sidney
Vnhappie sight, and hath she vanisht bySo neere, in so good time so free a place?Dead glasse doest thou thy object so imbrace,As what my heart still sees thou canst not spie?I sweare by her I loue and lacke, that IWas not in fault, who bent thy dazling raceOnely vnto the heau'n of Stellas face,Counting but dust what in the way did lie
Astrophel and Stella: 92
© Sir Philip Sidney
Be your words made (good Sir) of Indian ware,That you allow me them by so small rate?Or do you cutted Spartanes imitate,Or do you meane my tender eares to spare?That to my questions you so totall are,When I demaund of Phœnix Stellas state,You say forsooth, you left her well of late:O God, thinke you that satisfies my care?I would know whether she sit or walke,How cloth'd, how waited on, sigh'd she or smilde,Whereof, with whom, how often did she talke,With what pastime, times journey she beguilde,If her lips daig'nd to sweeten my poore name,Say all, and all, well sayd, still say the same
Astrophel and Stella: 84
© Sir Philip Sidney
High-way since you my chiefe Parnassus be,And that my Muse to some eares not vnsweet,Tempers her words to trampling horses feete,More oft then to a chamber melodie
Astrophel and Stella: 76
© Sir Philip Sidney
She comes, and streight therewith her shining twins do moue,Their rayes to me, who in her tedious absence layBenighted in cold wo, but now appeares my day,The only light of joy, the only warmth of Loue
Astrophel and Stella: 67
© Sir Philip Sidney
Hope, art thou true, or doest thou flatter me?Doth Stella now begin with piteous eye,The ruines of her conquest to espie:Will she take time, before all wracked be?Her eyes-speech is translated thus by thee
Song of Solomon
© The Bible
22:001:004 Draw me, we will run after thee: the king hath brought me into
his chambers: we will be glad and rejoice in thee, we will
remember thy love more than wine: the upright love thee.
Hope And Confidence In God
© The Bible
“Blessed be Jehovah, who daily carries the load for us,
The true God of our salvation.
Selah.
The true God is for us a God of saving acts;
And to Jehovah the Sovereign Lord belong the ways out from death.”—Ps. 68:19, 20.
God’s Glory And Majesty
© The Bible
“Long ago you laid the foundations of the earth itself,
And the heavens are the work of your hands.
They themselves will perish, but you yourself will keep standing;
And just like a garment they will all of them wear out.
Just like clothing you will replace them, and they will finish their turn.
But you are the same, and your own years will not be completed.”—Ps. 102:25-27.
Astrophel and Stella: 21
© Sir Philip Sidney
Your words my friend (right healthfull caustiks) blameMy young mind marde, whom Loue doth windlas so,That mine owne writings like bad servants show,My wits, quick in vaine thoughts, in vertue lame:That Plato I reade for nought, but if he tameSuch coltish yeares, that to my birth I owNobler desires, least else that friendly foe,Great expectation, weare a traine of shame
Astrophel and Stella: 2
© Sir Philip Sidney
Not at the first sight, nor with a dribbed shotLoue gaue the wound, which while I breath will bleed:But knowne worth did in mine of time proceed,Till by degrees it had full conquest got
Letter from a Friend
© Shields Carol
What do you mean you don'tunderstand me these days?Can't you see I'msewn up with sadness?Stitched through and through with grief that won'tbe comforted or identified.
Getting Born
© Shields Carol
Odd that no one knows how it feels to be born, whether it's one smooth whistling ride down green, ether-muffled air or whether the first breath burns in the lungs with the redness of flames.
Fall
© Shields Carol
This is the time of year when golden-agersare taken on buses to view the autumn foliageas though the sight and scent of yellowed treeswill stuff them with beautiful thoughtsand keep them from knowing --
as if there were still a trace of undamagedhunger -- for simple beauty, for colours,the sun falling frail on the fretwork of every leaf, the trumpeting surpriseof the earth turning, returning
Shakespeare's Sonnets: Why is my verse so barren of new pride?
© William Shakespeare
Why is my verse so barren of new pride?So far from variation or quick change?Why with the time do I not glance asideTo new-found methods, and to compounds strange?Why write I still all one, ever the same,And keep invention in a noted weed,That every word doth almost feal my name,Showing their birth, and where they did proceed?O know, sweet love, I always write of you,And you and love are still my argument:So all my best is dressing old words new,Spending again what is already spent: For as the sun is daily new and old, So is my love still telling what is told
Shakespeare's Sonnets: Who will believe my verse in time to come
© William Shakespeare
Who will believe my verse in time to comeIf it were fill'd with your most high deserts?Though yet heav'n knows it is but as a tombWhich hides your life and shews not half your parts:If I could write the beauty of your eyes,And in fresh numbers number all your graces,The age to come would say this poet lies,"Such heav'nly touches ne'er touch't earthly faces
