Time poems
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Pack up your Troubles in your Old Kit-bag
© Powell George Henry
Private Perks is a funny little codger With a smile, a funny smile
Love in Thy Youth, Fair Maid; Be Wise
© Walter Porter
Love in thy youth, fair maid; be wise, Old Time will make thee colder,And though each morning new arise Yet we each day grow older
Blue
© Chris Abani
Africans in the hold fold themselves
to make room for hope. In the afternoon’s
ferocity, tar, grouting the planks like the glue
of family, melts to the run of a child’s licorice stick.
An Essay on Man: Epistle III
© Alexander Pope
Here then we rest: "The Universal CauseActs to one end, but acts by various laws
Transfigured
© Piatt Sarah Morgan Bryan
Almost afraid they led her in: (A dwarf more piteous none could find);Withered as some weird leaf, and thin, The woman was .- and wan and blind.
The Sorrows of Charlotte
© Piatt Sarah Morgan Bryan
The Sorrows of Werther, that is the Book, Little girl of mine
The House below the Hill
© Piatt Sarah Morgan Bryan
You ask me of the farthest star, Whither your thought can climb at will,Forever-questioning child of mine
Requiem
© Phillimore John Swinnerton
Brother, we do not lay you down so deep But we ourselves shall overtake you soon:We dream a little longer, while you sleep; And sleep than dreaming, yours the better boon.
The Splendid Shilling
© Philips John
-- -- Sing, Heavenly Muse,Things unattempted yet in Prose or Rhime,A Shilling, Breeches, and Chimera's Dire.
Bleinheim, a Poem
© Philips John
From low and abject themes the grov'ling museNow mounts aërial, to sing of armsTriumphant, and emblaze the martial actsOf Britain's hero; may the verse not sinkBeneath his merits, but detain a whileThy ear, O Harley, (though thy country's wealDepends on thee, though mighty Anne requiresThy hourly counsels) since with ev'ry artThy self adorn'd, the mean essays of youthThou wilt not damp, but guide, wherever found,The willing genius to the muses' seat:Therefore thee first, and last, the muse shall sing
A Farewell Entitled to the Famous and Fortunate Generals of our English Forces
© George Peele
Have done with care, my hearts, abord amain,With stretching sail to plow the swelling waves
The Vow
© Peacock Molly
Every time you suffer disappointmentit makes me fall in love with you againbecause I almost cannot bear to seethe dumbstruck purity in your face benton figuring how or why you couldn't seeit coming
To the Hawthorn-tree
© John Payne
Hail, bright blossoming hawthorn-tree, This fair leaFilling thus with leaves a-throng!Foot and crownal, stem and bough, Clad art thouWith a wild vine's tendrils long.
Quia Multum Amavit
© John Payne
Just a drowned woman, with death-draggled hair And wan eyes, all a-stare;The weary limbs composed in ghastly rest, The hands together prest,Tight holding something that the flood has spared, Nor even the rough workhouse folk have dared To separate from her wholly, but untiedGently the knotted hands and laid it by her side
What Indians?
© Ortiz Simon Joseph
The Truth Is: "No kidding?" "No." "Come on! That can't be true!" "No kidding."
