Time poems

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Father William

© James Whitcomb Riley

"You are old, Father William, and though one would think
  All the veins in your body were dry,
Yet the end of your nose is red as a pink;
  I beg your indulgence, but why?"

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"I Am The Way"

© Alice Meynell

Thou art the Way.
Hadst Thou been nothing but the goal,
I cannot say
If Thou hadst ever met my soul.

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The Dread Of Height

© Francis Thompson

Not the Circean wine

Most perilous is for pain:

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Milking Time

© Adelaide Crapsey

Heard ye the maidens

Went through the meadows,

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The Angel In The House. Book I. Canto IX.

© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore

IV Fool and Wise
  Endow the fool with sun and moon,
  Being his, he holds them mean and low;
  But to the wise a little boon
  Is great, because the giver's so.

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Night.

© Robert Crawford

The wings of Evening, spread like phantom sails
Athwart the waning west,
Now as the last thin streak of crimson fails,
Seem as with sleep possessed.

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Corporal Schnapps

© Henry Clay Work

CHORUS: Ach! Mein fraulein!
You ish so ferry unkind!
You coes mit Hans to Zhermany to live,
And leaves poor Schnapps pehind,
And leaves poor Schnapps pehind.

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Little Nell's Funeral

© Charles Dickens

And now the bell, - the bell
She had so often heard by night and day
  And listened to with solemn pleasure,
  E'en as a living voice, -
Rung its remorseless toll for her,
  So young, so beautiful, so good.

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Recreation

© Jane Taylor

  At last the tea came up, and so,
With that, our tongues began to go.
Now, in that house, you're sure of knowing
The smallest scrap of news that's going ;
We find it there the wisest way
To take some care of what we say.

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At Evening Time There Shall Be Light

© Edith Nesbit

THE day was wild with wind and rain,

  One grey wrapped sky and sea and shore,

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The Sixth Sense

© Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev

Fine is the wine that is in love with us,
The goodly bread we wait for from the oven,
And woman whom we have possessed, at last,
After we've suffered under yoke her own.

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Sonnets Are Full Of Love

© Christina Georgina Rossetti

Sonnets are full of love, and this my tome

Has many sonnets: so here now shall be

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Michael Angelo In Reply To The Passage Upon His Staute Of Sleeping Night

© William Wordsworth

'Night Speaks'
GRATEFUL is Sleep, my life in stone bound fast;
More grateful still: while wrong and shame shall last,
On me can Time no happier state bestow

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Song of the Shingle-Splitters

© Henry Kendall

IN dark wild woods, where the lone owl broods  

 And the dingoes nightly yell—  

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Love Sonnet XLIX

© Zora Bernice May Cross

And when from there I come to you, love-swift,
My mouth hot-edged with kisses fresh as wine,
Often I find your longings all asleep
And unresponsive from my grasp you drift.
Ah, Love, you, too, seek solitude like mine,
And soul from soul the secret seems to keep.

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The Duell

© Richard Lovelace

Love drunk, the other day, knockt at my brest,
  But I, alas! was not within.
My man, my ear, told me he came t' attest,
  That without cause h'd boxed him,
And battered the windows of mine eyes,
And took my heart for one of's nunneries.

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Hot Afternoons Have Been in Montana

© Eli Siegel

Quiet and green was the grass of the field,  

The sky was whole in brightness,  

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December

© John Payne

THE roofs are dreary with the drifted rime

And in the air a stillness as of death

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Poem

© Aldous Huxley

Books and a coloured skein of thoughts were mine;
  And magic words lay ripening in my soul
  Till their much-whispered music turned a wine
  Whose subtlest power was all in my control.