Time poems

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Love, Dreaming of Death

© Charles Harpur

Sat on the earth as on a bier,
 Where loss and ruin lived alone,
Without the comfort of a tear—
 Without a passing groan.

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The Village Saturday Night

© Giacomo Leopardi

  The dearest day of all the week
  Is this, of hope and joy so full;
  To-morrow, sad and dull,
  The hours will bring, for each must in his thought
  His customary task-work seek.

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Fragments

© Dante Gabriel Rossetti

THE wounded hart and the dying swan
Were side by side
Where the rushes coil with the turn of the tide—
The hart and the swan.

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Rambles In Autumn

© James Thomson

But see the fading many-colour'd woods,
Shade deepening over shade, the country round
Imbrown; a crowded umbrage, dusk, and dun,
Of every hue, from wan declining green

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Casey's Table D'Hote

© Eugene Field

Oh, them days on Red Hoss Mountain, when the skies wuz fair 'nd blue,

When the money flowed like likker, 'nd the  folks wuz brave 'nd true!

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Ode to Duty

© William Wordsworth

. Stern Daughter of the Voice of God!

 O Duty! if that name thou love

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The Persevering Tortoise And The Pretentious Hare

© Guy Wetmore Carryl

  And THE MORAL (lest you miss one)
  Is: There's often time to spare,
  And that races are (like this one)
  Won not always by a hair.

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Ernestness

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

The hurry of the times affects us so
In this swift rushing hour, we crowd and press
And thrust each other backward as we go,
And do not pause to lay sufficient stress

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Relic

© Ted Hughes

I found this jawbone at the sea's edge:
There, crabs, dogfish, broken by the breakers or tossed
To flap for half an hour and turn to a crust
Continue the beginning. The deeps are cold:
In that darkness camaraderie does not hold.

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Elegy XV: A Tale of a Citizen and his Wife

© John Donne

I SING no harm, good sooth, to any wight,

To lord or fool, cuckold, beggar, or knight,

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The House Of Dust: Part 02: 11:

© Conrad Aiken

Snow falls. The sky is grey, and sullenly glares
With purple lights in the canyoned street.
The fiery sign on the dark tower wreathes and flares . . .
The trodden grass in the park is covered with white,
The streets grow silent beneath our feet . . .
The city dreams, it forgets its past to-night.

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A Street Corner

© Robert Fuller Murray

Here, where the thoroughfares meet at an angle
  Of ninety degrees (this angle is right),
You may hear the loafers that jest and wrangle
  Through the sun-lit day and the lamp-lit night;

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Pan The Fallen

© William Wilfred Campbell

He wandered into the market
  With pipes and goatish hoof;
  He wandered in a grotesque shape,
  And no one stood aloof.

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Fragment I

© James Macpherson

SHILRIC, VINVELA.

VINVELA

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Ruth

© Henry Lawson

Are the fields of my fancy less fair through a window that’s narrowed and barred?
Are the morning stars dimmed by the glare of the gas-light that flares in the yard?
No! And what does it matter to me if to-morrow I sail from the land?
I am free, as I never was free! I exult in my loneliness grand!

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A Second Letter From B. Sawin, Esq.

© James Russell Lowell

I spose you wonder ware I be; I can't tell, fer the soul o' me,

Exacly ware I be myself,--meanin' by thet the holl o' me.

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A Dan Yell

© Henry Lawson

I WISH I’d never gone to board

  In that house where I met

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Angelo

© William Watson

 Then Angelo bethought him of his vow;
And stepping forward stood before the twain;
And from his girdle plucked a dagger forth;
And spake no word, but pierced his own heart through.

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Invocation

© Madison Julius Cawein

  They who were fondly fain
  To tell what mother pain
  Of Nature makes the rain;

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The Faerie Queene, Book I, Canto IV

© Edmund Spenser

  To sinfull house of Pride, Duessa
  guides the faithfull knight,
  Where brothers death to wreak Sansjoy
  doth chalenge him to fight.