Time poems
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A Quiet Soul
© John Oldham
Thy soul within such silent pomp did keep,
As if humanity were lull'd asleep;
Earth
© William Cullen Bryant
A midnight black with clouds is in the sky;
I seem to feel, upon my limbs, the weight
Sonnet XXX. Life And Death. 2.
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
OR endless sleep 't will be, and that is rest,
Freedom forever from life's weary cares
Or else a life beyond the climbing stairs
And dizzy pinnacles of thought expressed
Win' That 'Blaws
© George MacDonald
Win' that blaws the simmer plaid
Ower the hie hill's shoothers laid,
Yu-Pe-Yas Dirge For Tse-Ky
© Augusta Davies Webster
DEAD, my beloved! This small purple weed
That grows upon thy grave shall have its time
To ripen and to wane, to bloom and seed;
But thou, strong doer, mightst not wait thy deed,
But thou, oh noblest, mightst not wait thy meed:
Dead in thy prime!
Time And Death And Love
© Madison Julius Cawein
Last night I watched for Death--
So sick of life was I!--
When in the street beneath
I heard his watchman cry
The hour, while passing by.
Dedication To Leigh Hunt, Esq.
© John Keats
Glory and loveliness have pass'd away;
For if we wander out in early morn,
No wreathed incense do we see upborne
Into the east, to meet the smiling day:
The Goat Paths
© James Brunton Stephens
In the deeper sunniness,
In the place where nothing stirs,
Quietly in quietness,
In the quiet of the furze,
For a time they come and lie
Staring on the roving sky.
Aurora Leigh: Book Seventh
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
I broke on Marian there. "Yet she herself,
A wife, I think, had scandals of her own,-
A lover not her husband."
Ode To Sleep
© Pablius Papinius Statius
Lulled are the shuttering waves of the ocean,
Seas in the lap of the land lie at peace.
Only for me in monotonous motion
Day follows day, and there comes no release.
A Voyager's Dream Of Land
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
The hollow dash of waves!–the ceaseless roar!
Silence, ye billows! vex my soul no more.
The Banshee
© John Todhunter
She keens, and the strings of her wild harp shiver
On the gusts of night:
O'er the four waters she keens-over Moyle she keens,
O'er the Sea of Milith, and the Strait of Strongbow,
And the Ocean of Columbus.
"Booh!"
© Eugene Field
On afternoons, when baby boy has had a splendid nap,
And sits, like any monarch on his throne, in nurse's lap,
In some such wise my handkerchief I hold before my face,
And cautiously and quietly I move about the place;
Then, with a cry, I suddenly expose my face to view,
And you should hear him laugh and crow when I say "Booh"!
Recollections Of A Dreamland
© James Clerk Maxwell
Rouse ye! torpid daylight-dreamers, cast your carking cares away!
As calm air to troubled water, so my night is to your day;
All the dreary day you labour, groping after common sense,
And your eyes ye will not open on the night's magnificence.
Ye would scow were I to tell you how a guiding radiance gleams
On the outer world of action from my inner world of dreams.
The Pleasures of Memory - Part II.
© Samuel Rogers
Sweet Memory, wafted by thy gentle gale,
Oft up the stream of Time I turn my sail,
To view the fairy-haunts of long-lost hours.
Blest with far greener shades, far fresher flowers.
Tannhauser
© Emma Lazarus
Far into Wartburg, through all Italy,
In every town the Pope sent messengers,
Riding in furious haste; among them, one
Who bore a branch of dry wood burst in bloom;
The pastoral rod had borne green shoots of spring,
And leaf and blossom. God is merciful.
Why The Spring Is Late
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
To Miss Eva Russell.
The spring time is deaf to our pleading,
New-Englands Crisis
© Benjamin Tompson
IN seventy five the Critick of our years
Commenc'd our war with Phillip and his peers.
Burns
© John Greenleaf Whittier
No more these simple flowers belong
To Scottish maid and lover;
Sown in the common soil of song,
They bloom the wide world over.
