Time poems
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The Unhappy Lot Of Mr. Knott
© James Russell Lowell
My worthy friend, A. Gordon Knott,
From business snug withdrawn,
Was much contented with a lot
That would contain a Tudor cot
'Twixt twelve feet square of garden-plot,
And twelve feet more of lawn.
Sticky Fingers
© Edgar Albert Guest
Wife says that I should be ashamed
To wear such garments as I do,
Change
© Boris Pasternak
I used to glorify the poor,
Not simply lofty views expressing:
Their lives alone, I felt, were true,
Devoid of pomp and window-dressing.
A Circular
© Thomas Hardy
As 'legal representative'
I read a missive not my own,
On new designs the senders give
For clothes, in tints as shown.
Another Fall of Rain
© Anonymous
THE weather had been sultry for a fortnight's time or more,
And the shearers had been driving might and main,
For some had got the century who'd ne'er got it before,
And now all hands were wishing for the rain.
From the Persian of Hafiz I
© Ralph Waldo Emerson
Butler, fetch the ruby wine,
Which with sudden greatness fills us;
Winstanley
© Jean Ingelow
Quoth the cedar to the reeds and rushes,
“Water-grass, you know not what I do;
Know not of my storms, nor of my hushes.
And—I know not you.”
Arcadia Rediviva
© James Russell Lowell
I, walking the familiar street,
While a crammed horse-car jingled through it,
Was lifted from my prosy feet
And in Arcadia ere I knew it.
In the Wood
© Boris Pasternak
Blurred by a lilac heat, the meadows:
in the wood, cathedral shadows swirled.
Woman
© Fitz-Greene Halleck
LADY, although we have not met,
And may not meet, beneath the sky;
And whether thine are eyes of jet,
Gray, or dark blue, or violet,
Or hazelheaven knows, not I;
To a Maniac
© Amelia Opie
There was a time, poor phrensied maid,
When I could o'er thy grief have mourned,
And still with tears the tale repaid
Of sense by sorrow's sway o'erturned.
Centennial Celebration
© Julia A Moore
In the year eighteen seventy-six,
A Fourth of July celebration
The Courage Of Shutting-Up
© Sylvia Plath
The courage of the shut mouth, in spite of artillery!
The line pink and quiet, a worm, basking.
There are black disks behind it, the disks of outrage,
And the outrage of a sky, the lined brain of it.
The disks revolve, they ask to be heard
The Last Wish
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Go to the forest-shade,
Seek thou the well-known glade,
Where, heavy with sweet dew, the violets lie,
Gleaming thro' moss-tufts deep,
Like dark eyes fill'd with sleep,
And bath'd in hues of summer's midnight sky.
A Message Of Jeff Davis In Secret Session
© James Russell Lowell
I sent you a messige, my friens, t'other day,
To tell you I'd nothin' pertickler to say:
A Tombless Epitaph
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
'Tis true, Idoloclastes Satyrane!
(So call him, for so mingling blame with praise,
And smiles with anxious looks, his earliest friends,
Masking his birth-name, wont to character
The Visions Of Bellay
© Edmund Spenser
IT was the time, when rest soft sliding downe
From heauens hight into mens heauy eyes,
To Perdita, Singing
© James Russell Lowell
Thy voice is like a fountain
Leaping up in sunshine bright,
And I never weary counting
Its clear droppings, lone and single,
Or when in one full gush they mingle,
Shooting in melodious light.
Martha And Mary
© John Newton
Martha her love and joy expressed
By care to entertain her guest;
While Mary sat to hear her Lord,
And could not bear to lose a word.
