Time poems
/ page 147 of 792 /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?"
"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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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,
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.
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
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
Song of the Shingle-Splitters
© Henry Kendall
IN dark wild woods, where the lone owl broods
And the dingoes nightly yell
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.
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.
Hot Afternoons Have Been in Montana
© Eli Siegel
Quiet and green was the grass of the field,
The sky was whole in brightness,
December
© John Payne
THE roofs are dreary with the drifted rime
And in the air a stillness as of death
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.