Time poems
/ page 171 of 792 /Hunting Of The Snark: Preface
© Lewis Carroll
If--and the thing is wildly possible--t he charge of writing
nonsense were ever brought against the author of this brief but
instructive poem, it would be based, I feel convinced, on the line
Hymn to the North Star
© William Cullen Bryant
The sad and solemn night
Hath yet her multitude of cheerful fires;
The glorious host of light
Walk the dark hemisphere till she retires;
All through her silent watches, gliding slow,
Her constellations come, and climb the heavens, and go.
Viva Perpetua
© Archibald Lampman
The night is passing. In a few short hours
I too shall suffer for the name of Christ.
A boundless exaltation lifts my soul!
I know that they who left us, Saturus,
Perpetua, and the other blessed ones,
Await me at the opening gates of heaven.
The Lady Poverty
© Alice Meynell
The Lady Poverty was fair:
But she has lost her looks of late,
With change of times and change of air.
Ah slattern, she neglects her hair,
Her gown, her shoes. She keeps no state
As once when her pure feet were bare.
A Poetical Epistle To Lady Austen
© William Cowper
Dear Anna, -- Between friend and friend,
Prose answers every common end;
Two-An'-Six
© Claude McKay
Merry voices chatterin',
Nimble feet dem patterin',
Big an' little, faces gay,
Happy day dis market day.
Christ at Carnival
© Muriel Stuart
Then I heard human accents answering:
"I am a god, made god by all thy prayers;
Wach stone becomes a god by worshipping;
I am a man who loves thee: in thy town
Many have loved thee, I am one of these."
Heap High the Golden Corn
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Heap high the farmer's wintry hoard!
Heap high the golden corn !
No richer gift has Autumn poured
From out her lavish horn !
Religious Musings : A Desultory Poem Written On The Christmas Eve Of 1794
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
What tho' first,
In years unseason'd, I attuned the lay
To idle passion and unreal woe?
Yet serious truth her empire o'er my song
The Song Of Hiawatha XVII: The Hunting Of Pau-Puk Keewis
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Full of wrath was Hiawatha
When he came into the village,
The Chaplain
© Edgar Albert Guest
He was just a small church parson when the war broke out, and he
Looked and dressed and acted like all parsons that we see.
He wore the cleric's broadcloth and he hooked his vest behind,
But he had a man's religion and he had a strong man's mind,
And he heard the call to duty, and he quit his church and went,
And he bravely tramped right with 'em everywhere the boys were sent.
An Italian To Italy
© Richard Monckton Milnes
Along the coast of those bright seas,
Where sternly fought of old
The Pisan and the Genoese,
Into the evening gold
A Poem On The Last Day - Book II
© Edward Young
Now man awakes, and from his silent bed,
Where he has slept for ages, lifts his head;
Shakes off the slumber of ten thousand years,
And on the borders of new worlds appears.
Whate'er the bold, the rash adventure cost,
In wide Eternity I dare be lost.
The Song Of The Free
© Swami Vivekananda
The wounded snake its hood unfurls,
The flame stirred up doth blaze,
The desert air resounds the calls
Of heart-struck lion's rage.
The Word of The Silence
© Sri Aurobindo
A bare impersonal hush is now my mind,
A world of sight clear and inimitable,
A volume of silence by a Godhead signed,
A greatness pure, virgin of will.
The Soul.
© Robert Crawford
A soul came up to God, and said:
"Give me not human birth
Again oh! send me not to tread
The solitude of Earth;