Time poems

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The Shepherd's Week : Tuesday; or, the Ditty

© John Gay

Marian.

Young Colin Clout, a lad of peerless meed,

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Woman To Child

© Judith Wright

You who were darkness warmed my flesh
where out of darkness rose the seed.
Then all a world I made in me;
all the world you hear and see
hung upon my dreaming blood.

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Whitsunday

© John Keble

When God of old came down from Heaven,
  In power and wrath He came;
Before His feet the clouds were riven,
  Half darkness and half flame:

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A Thousand Years From Now

© Paul Hamilton Hayne

I SAT within my tranquil room;
The twilight shadows sank and rose
With slowly flickering motions, waved
Grotesquely through the dusk repose;

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Gratitude, Addressed To Lady Hesketh

© William Cowper

This cap, that so stately apepars,
With ribbon-bound tassel on high,
Which seems by the crest that it rears
Ambitious of brushing the sky;

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Song Of A Tribe Of The Ancient Egyptians

© Rupert Brooke

(The Priests within the Temple)
She was wrinkled and huge and hideous?  She was our Mother.
She was lustful and lewd?—but a God; we had none other.
In the day She was hidden and dumb, but at nightfall moaned in the shade;
We shuddered and gave Her Her will in the darkness; we were afraid.

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A Psalm Of Councel

© Joseph Furphy

Though some good folks may take it ill,

As trifling with parsonic frill,

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Far, Far Away Is Mirth Withdrawn

© Emily Jane Brontë

Far, far away is mirth withdrawn
  'Tis three long hours before the morn
  And I watch lonely, drearily
  So come thou shade commune with me

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In Time Of Silver Rain

© Langston Hughes

In time of silver rain
The earth puts forth new life again,
Green grasses grow
And flowers lift their heads,
And over all the plain
The wonder spreads

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Improvement

© Edgar Albert Guest

The joy of life is living it, or so it seems to me;

In finding shackles on your wrists, then struggling till you're free;

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The Chaperon

© Henry Cuyler Bunner

I take my chaperon to the play--
She thinks she's taking me.
And the gilded youth who owns the box,
A proud young man is he;

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Scotch Drink

© Robert Burns

Let other poets raise a fracas
Bout vines, and wines, an drucken Bacchus,
An crabbit names an stories wrack us,
  An grate our lug:
I sing the juice Scotch bear can mak us,
  In glass or Jug.

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An Impression

© Archibald Lampman

I heard the city time-bells call
Far off in hollow towers,
And one by one with measured fall
Count out the old dead hours;

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Into Her Lying Down Head

© Dylan Thomas

I

  Into her lying down head

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Lycus the Centaur

© Thomas Hood

FROM AN UNROLLED MANUSCRIPT OF APOLLONIUS CURIUS

(The Argument: Lycus, detained by Circe in her magical dominion, is beloved by a Water Nymph, who, desiring to render him immortal, has recourse to the Sorceress. Circe gives her an incantation to pronounce, which should turn Lycus into a horse; but the horrible effect of the charm causing her to break off in the midst, he becomes a Centaur).

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Breakfast

© Sant Surdas

O Hari, 'tis morn, awake, there's water in the jar for you to wash your face no need to hurry there's plenty of time.

I'll bring you whatever you like for your breakfast- dried fruits, butter, honey and bread.

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To Edward Clodd

© William Watson

Friend, in whose friendship I am twice well-starred,

 A debt not time may cancel is your due;

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Solomon on the Vanity of the World, A Poem. In Three Books. - Power. Book III.

© Matthew Prior

Come then, my soul: I call thee by that name,
Thou busy thing, from whence I know I am;
For, knowing that I am, I know thou art,
Since that must needs exist which can impart:
But how thou camest to be, or whence thy spring,
For various of thee priests and poets sing.

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Asoka

© Robert Laurence Binyon

I
Gentle as fine rain falling from the night,
The first beams from the Indian moon at full
Steal through the boughs, and brighter and more bright

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The Father Of The Man

© Edgar Albert Guest

I can't help thinkin' o' the lad!

  Here's summer bringin' trees to fruit,