Time poems
/ page 240 of 792 /A great Yogi
© Mirabai
In my travels I spent time with a great yogi.
Once he said to me.
Become so still you hear the blood flowing
The Shepherds Calendar - April
© John Clare
The infant april joins the spring
And views its watery skye
As youngling linnet trys its wing
And fears at first to flye
Richborough Castle
© Edith Nesbit
THESE three grey walls are still stout and strong,
Though the fourth wide wall has crumbled away
Life's Canvas
© Edgar Albert Guest
Sunshine and shadow and laughter and tears,
These are forever the paints of the years,
From The Portuguese
© Edith Nesbit
And they from the village of youth
Run by our doorsteps laughing,
Calling, to shew each other
The new shawl, the new comb, the new fan,
The new rose, the new lover.
For The Fallen
© Robert Laurence Binyon
With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.
The Spellin'-Bee
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
I NEVER shall furgit that night when father hitched up Dobbin,
An' all us youngsters clambered in an' down the road went bobbin'
The Wrongs Of Africa, A Poem. Part The First
© William Roscoe
OFFSPRING of love divine, Humanity!
To who, his eldest born, th'Eternal gave
The Pearl Of Them All
© William Henry Ogilvie
Gaily in front of the stockwhip
The horses come galloping home,
Can't
© Edgar Albert Guest
Can't is the worst word that's written or spoken;
Doing more harm here than slander and lies;
Beauty Fades
© Theocritus
The rose is beauteous, but time causes it to fade;
The violet is fair in spring,
And quickly grows out of date;
The lily is white, fading when it droops;
Ode--'On A Distant Prospect' Of Making A Fortune
© Charles Stuart Calverley
Now the "rosy morn appearing"
Floods with light the dazzled heaven;
And the schoolboy groans on hearing
That eternal clock strike seven:-
Ode - So dear my Lucio is to me
© William Shenstone
So dear my Lucio is to me,
So well our minds and tempers blend,
That seasons may for ever flee,
And ne'er divide me from my friend;
But let the favour'd boy forbear
To tempt with love my only fair.
How Long Wilt Thou Love Me?
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
How long wilt thou love me, O my love?
"As long as life may be."
Yorktown
© John Greenleaf Whittier
YORKTOWN.
FROM Yorktown's ruins, ranked and still,
Two lines stretch far o'er vale and hill:
Who curbs his steed at head of one?