Time poems
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Gravikty
© Harold Monro
I
Fit for perpetual worship is the power
That holds our bodies safely to the earth.
The Dancers (For Edwin Arlington Robinson)
© Margaret Widdemer
Ours is a still town, a sad town, a sober town,
Still lie the dun roads all empty in the sun,
Sad comes the day up and sad falls the night down,
And sadly go we sleepwise when the day's watch is done!
Your Last Drive
© Thomas Hardy
Here by the moorway you returned,
And saw the borough lights ahead
That lit your face - all undiscerned
To be in a week the face of the dead,
And you told of the charm of that haloed view
That never again would beam on you.
Loraine
© George Essex Evans
In her dark-ringed eyes shone the sad unrest
That spoke in the heave of her troubled breast,
And her face was white as the chiselled stone,
And her lips pressed madly against my own,
And her heart beat wildly against my heart,
And we strove to go, but we could not part.
Mon Reve Familier
© Paul Verlaine
Oft do I dream this strange and penetrating dream:
An unknown woman, whom I love, who loves me well,
Who does not every time quite change, nor yet quite dwell
The same,--and loves me well, and knows me as I am.
Elegy XIII. To a Friend, On Some Slight Occasion Estranged From Him
© William Shenstone
Health to my friend, and many a cheerful day!
Around his seat may peaceful shades abide!
Smooth flow the minutes, fraught with smiles, away,
And, till they crown our union, gently glide!
Lullaby
© Edgar Albert Guest
The golden dreamboat's ready, all her silken sails are spread,
And the breeze is gently blowing to the fairy port of Bed,
And the fairy's captain's waiting while the busy sandman flies
With the silver dust of slumber, closing every baby's eyes.
Jerusalem Delivered - Book 01 - part 02
© Torquato Tasso
XI
Thus when the Lord discovered had, and seen
On The Proposal To Erect A Monument In England To Lord Byron
© Emma Lazarus
The grass of fifty Aprils hath waved green
Above the spent heart, the Olympian head,
The Cuckoo
© Edward Thomas
That's the cuckoo, you say. I cannot hear it.
When last I heard it I cannot recall; but I know
Too well the year when first I failed to hear it -
It was drowned by my man groaning out to his sheep 'Ho! Ho!'
Amais
© Robert Laurence Binyon
I
``O King Amasis, hail!
News from thy friend, the King Polycrates!
My oars have never rested on the seas
Poetry Everywhere
© William Schwenck Gilbert
What time the poet hath hymned
The writhing maid, lithe-limbed,
Quivering on amaranthine asphodel,
How can he paint her woes,
Knowing, as well he knows,
That all can be set right with calomel?
An Epistle To Robert Lloyd, Esq.
© William Cowper
'Tis not that I design to rob
Thee of thy birthright, gentle Bob,--
The Poet And The Muse
© Alfred Austin
Whither, and whence, and why hast fled?
Thou art dumb, my muse; thou art dumb, thou art dead,
As a waterless stream, as a leafless tree.
What have I done to banish thee?
When Mother Combed My Hair
© James Whitcomb Riley
When Memory, with gentle hand,
Has led me to that foreign land
Wife
© Julian Tuwim
His eyes are misted. He takes one more dram.
He kneels down beside me and lays his head on my arm.
It is only then that I learn for the first time who I am.
On Happiness
© James Thomson
Warm'd by the summer sun's meridian ray,
As underneath a spreading oak I lay
Contemplating the mighty load of woe,
In search of bliss that mortals undergo,
Of The Nature Of Things: Book IV - Part 05 - The Passion Of Love
© Lucretius
This craving 'tis that's Venus unto us:
From this, engender all the lures of love,
