Time poems
/ page 217 of 792 /Ballad Of Jesus Of Nazareth
© Edgar Lee Masters
It matters not what place he drew
At first life's mortal breath,
Some say it was in Bethlehem,
And some in Nazareth.
But shame and sorrow were his lot
And shameful was his death.
Paul's Voyage
© John Newton
If Paul in Caesar's court must stand,
He need not fear the sea;
Secured from harm, on every hand,
By the divine decree.
The Feud: A Border Ballad
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
They sat by their wine in the tavern that night,
But not in good fellowship true:
The Rhenish was strong and the Burgundy bright,
And hotter the argument grew.
To The Dandelion
© James Russell Lowell
Dear common flower, that grow'st beside the way,
Fringing the dusty road with harmless gold,
Childhood
© Arthur Rimbaud
I.
That idol, black eyes and yellow mop, without parents or court,
nobler than Mexican and Flemish fables;
his domain, insolent azure and verdure,
runs over beaches called by the shipless waves,
names ferociously Greek, Slav, Celt.
Shadow-of-a-Leaf
© Alfred Noyes
Bird, squirrel, bee, and the thing that was like no other
Played in the woods that day,
Talked in the heart of the woods, as brother to brother,
And prayed as children pray,
Make me a garland, Lady, a garland, Mother,
For this wild rood of may.
The Record
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
HE sleeps, his head upon his sword,
His soldier's cloak a shroud;
His church-yard is the open field,--
Three times it has been plough'd:
A Bonus
© Elizabeth Smart
That day i finished
A small piece
For an obscure magazine
I popped it in the box
I never felt at HomeBelow
© Emily Dickinson
I never felt at HomeBelow-
And in the Handsome Skies
I shall not feel at HomeI know
I don't like Paradise
The Ploughman
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
CLEAR the brown path, to meet his coulter's gleam!
Lo! on he comes, behind his smoking team,
With toil's bright dew-drops on his sunburnt brow,
The lord of earth, the hero of the plough!
Body And Soul: A Metaphysical Argument
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Man openeth the case
Body, from the arrogance
Of the Soul thou seekest shield,
Makest prayer the old mis--chance
Six Sonnets On Dante's Divine Comedy
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I
Oft have I seen at some cathedral door
By The Fire
© Aldous Huxley
We who are lovers sit by the fire,
Cradled warm 'twixt thought and will,
Admetus: To my friend, Ralph Waldo Emerson
© Emma Lazarus
He who could beard the lion in his lair,
To bind him for a girl, and tame the boar,
Sir Walter Raleigh (The night before his death)
© Sir Walter Raleigh
Even such is time, which takes in trust
Our youth, our joys, and all we have,
And pays us nought but age and dust;
Which in the dark and silent grave,
To A Dead Journalist
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
The busy trade of life is over now,
The intricate toil which was so hard for bread,
The strife each day renewed 'neath this poor brow
By this frail hand to be interpreted,
Help
© Franklin Pierce Adams
Come, live with us and be our cook,
And we will all the whimsies brook
That German, Irish, Swede, and Slav
And all the dear domestics have.