Time poems

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June

© Archibald Lampman

Long, long ago, it seems, this summer morn

That pale-browed April passed with pensive tread

Memory

© William Ellery Channing

I hear thy solemn anthem fall,
O richest song, upon my ear,
That clothes thee in thy golden pall,
As this wide sun flows on the mere.

I Am Yours Truly

© George Ade

How often in this careless life

A word but lightly spoken,

The Hollow Woak

© William Barnes

The woaken tree, so hollow now,

To souls ov other times wer sound,

Sure treasure, simple shrine to intelligence,
Palpable calm, visible reticence,
Proud-lidded water, Eye wherein there wells
Under a film of fire such depth of sleep --
O silence! . . . Mansion in my soul, you slope
Of gold, roof of a myriad golden tiles.

In Beechwood Cemetery

© Archibald Lampman

Here the dead sleep-the quiet dead. No sound
Disturbs them ever, and no storm dismays.
Winter mid snow caresses the tired ground,
And the wind roars about the woodland ways.

The Gift Of Poetry

© Thomas Parnell

It comes it comes with unaccustomd light,
The tracts of airy Thought grow wondrous bright,
Its notions ancient Memory reviews,
& Young Invention new design pursues,
To some attempt my will & wishes press,
& pleasure raisd in hope forebodes success.

To The Heroic Soul

© Duncan Campbell Scott

And when Grief comes thou shalt have suffered more
Than all the deepest woes of all the world;
Joy, dancing in, shall find thee nourished with mirth;
Wisdom shall find her Master at thy door;
And Love shall find thee crowned with love empearled;
And death shall touch thee not but a new birth.

Speculum Tuscanismi

© Gabriel Harvey

Since Galatea came in, and Tuscanism gan usurp,

Vanity above all: villainy next her, stateliness Empress

Zitten Out The Wold Year

© William Barnes

Why, raïn or sheen, or blow or snow,

I zaid, if I could stand so's,

Marriage Songs

© George MacDonald

"They have no more wine!" she said.
But they had enough of bread;
And the vessels by the door
Held for thirst a plenteous store:
Yes, enough; but Love divine
Turned the water into wine!

Hermann And Dorothea - II. Terpsichore

Then the son thoughtfully answer'd:--"I know not why, but the fact is
My annoyance has graven itself in my mind, and hereafter
I could not bear at the piano to see her, or list to her singing."

'The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 3

WHEN Heavn had overturnd the Trojan state

And Priams throne, by too severe a fate;

For An Autograph

THOUGH old the thought and oft exprest,
'Tis his at last who says it best,
I'll try my fortune with the rest.
Life is a leaf of paper white
Whereon each one of us may write
His word or two, and then comes night.

The Brothers

"THESE Tourists, heaven preserve us! needs must live

A profitable life: some glance along,

Speranza

© Jean Ingelow

England puts on her purple, and pale, pale
With too much light, the primrose doth but wait
To meet the hyacinth; then bower and dale
Shall lose her and each fairy woodland mate.
April forgets them, for their utmost sum
Of gift was silent, and the birds are come.