Time poems
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Empire Building
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
"I'll teach them how to work, and how to pray."
Oh, John, you never think before your day
Rome was, Greece wascan one believe it true?
Great Egypt died, and never heard of you!
Charles Harpur
© Henry Kendall
So let him sleep, the rugged hymns
And broken lights of woods above him!
And let me sing how sorrow dims
The eyes of those that used to love him.
Hymn of The Dunkers
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Wake, sisters, wake! the day-star shines;
Above Ephrata's eastern pines
The dawn is breaking, cool and calm.
Wake, sisters, wake to prayer and psalm!
A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet XXI
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
To Switzerland, the land of lakes and snow,
And ancient freedom of ancestral type,
And modern innkeepers, who cringe and bow,
And venal echoes, and Pans paid to pipe!
The Old Flute
© Henry Van Dyke
The time will come when I no more can play
This polished flute: the stops will not obey
The Princes Quest - Part the Sixth
© William Watson
Even as one voice the great sea sang. From out
The green heart of the waters round about,
Consolation of Early Death
© Beaumont and Fletcher
Sweet prince, the name of Death was never terrible
To him that knew to live; nor the loud torrent
Spring-Watching Pavilion
© Ho Xuan Huong
A gentle spring evening arrives
airily, unclouded by worldly dust.
Ego
© John Greenleaf Whittier
On page of thine I cannot trace
The cold and heartless commonplace,
A statue's fixed and marble grace.
Learn
© Ada Cambridge
Learn, learn, learn,-
Our beautiful world is not a field for sheep;
Not just a place wherein to laugh and weep,
To eat and drink, to dance and sigh and sleep.
And then to moulder into senseless dust.
A Torchbearer
© Edith Wharton
Great cities rise and have their fall; the brass
That held their glories moulders in its turn.
An Epistle to a Lady
© Mary Leapor
In vain, dear Madam, yes in vain you strive;
Alas! to make your luckless Mira thrive,
For Tycho and Copernicus agree,
No golden Planet bent its Rays on me.
The Point Of Taste
© George Meredith
Unhappy poets of a sunken prime!
You to reviewers are as ball to bat.
Yorktown Centennial Lyric
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
HARK, hark! down the century's long reaching slope
To those transports of triumph, those raptures of hope,
The voices of main and of mountain combined
In glad resonance borne on the wings of the wind,
On The Death Of Thomas Bailey Aldrich
© William Stanley Braithwaite
There is a pause in meeting before speech
Between men who have fed their souls with song;
The strangeness of an echo beyond reach
Cleaves silence deep for speech to pass along.
There are no words to tell the loss, but each
Of our hearts feels the sorrow deep and strong.
The Sorrow Tugs
© Edgar Albert Guest
There's a lot of joy in the smiling world,
there's plenty of morning sun,
The House Of Dust: {Complete}
© Conrad Aiken
The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light.
The trees grow dark: the shadows lean to the east:
And lights wink out through the windows, one by one.
A clamor of frosty sirens mourns at the night.
Pale slate-grey clouds whirl up from the sunken sun.
