Time poems
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A Childhood
© Stephen Spender
In what purity of pleasure
You danced alone like a peasant
For the stamping joy's own sake!
Nine Miles from Gundagai (2)
© Anonymous
I've done my share of shearing sheep,
Of droving and all that;
Ortygia
© Jessie Mackay
IN Ortygia the Dawn land the old gods dwell,
And the silvers yet a-quiver on the old wizard well
To Time
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Time, Time, who choosest
All in the end well;
Who severely refusest
Fames upon trumpets blown
Loud for a day, and alone
Makest truth to excel:
Despondency -- An Ode
© Robert Burns
Oppress'd with grief, oppress'd with care,
A burden more than I can bear,
Recalling War
© Robert Graves
Entrance and exit wounds are silvered clean,
The track aches only when the rain reminds.
The one-legged man forgets his leg of wood
The one-armed man his jointed wooden arm.
On Reading Shakepeare's Sonnets
© George William Lewis Marshall-Hall
THY verse is like a cool and shady well
Lying a-dream within some moss-walled close
The Discharge
© George Herbert
Busie enquiring heart, what wouldst thou know?
Why dost thou prie,
And turn, and leer, and with a licorous eye
Look high and low;
And in thy lookings stretch and grow?
On The Future Of Poetry
© Henry Austin Dobson
Bards of the Future! you that come
With striding march, and roll of drum,
The Isle Of Voices
© Madison Julius Cawein
The wind blew free that morn that we,
High-hearted, sailed away;
Bound for Favonian islands blest,
Remote within the utmost West,
Beyond the golden day.
The Pure Good of Theory
© Wallace Stevens
It is time that beats in the breast and it is time
That batters against the mind, silent and proud,
The mind that knows it is destroyed by time.
Insect.
© Robert Crawford
We do not grasp ourselves, but still drift on
As aimless as a mote in the warm air,
Whose senses take the sweetness of the time,
And in a moment let existence go,
Its tiny death-squeak an indefinite thing
Recorded in the general ear of God.
Consolations in Bereavement
© John Henry Newman
Death came and went:that so thy image might
Our yearning hearts possess,
Associate with all pleasant thoughts and bright,
With youth and loveliness;
Sorrow can claim,
Mary, nor lot nor part in thy soft soothing name.
The Eyes Of Youth
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Time buys no wisdom like the eyes of youth,
Though youth itself be blinded with delight,
As a buoyant swimmer by the bursting spray
Of the resplendent surge, and know not yet
Darkness
© John Crowe Ransom
WHEN hurrying home on a rainy night
And hearing tree-tops rubbed and tossed,
And seeing never a friendly star
And feeling your way when paths are crossed:
Stop fast and turn three times around
And try the logic of the lost.
The Fly In The Ointment
© Joseph Furphy
When the great Creator fashion'd us, and saw that we were good,
He commission'd us to dominate the planet as it stood.
But His ordinance meets denial still, and peace remains unknown,
For the Boer is always with us, calling certain lands his own.
Divided
© Jean Ingelow
An empty sky, a world of heather,
Purple of foxglove, yellow of broom;
We two among them wading together,
Shaking out honey, treading perfume.
Michael Oaktree
© Alfred Noyes
Under an arch of glorious leaves I passed
Out of the wood and saw the sickle moon
Floating in daylight o'er the pale green sea.
The Borough. Letter XI: Inns
© George Crabbe
All the comforts of life in a Tavern are known,
'Tis his home who possesses not one of his own;
And to him who has rather too much of that one,
'Tis the house of a friend where he's welcome to
Of An Orchard
© Katharine Tynan
Good is an Orchard, the Saint saith,
To meditate on life and death,
With a cool well, a hive of bees,
A hermit's grot below the trees.
