Time poems
/ page 251 of 792 /The Bestiary: or Orpheuss Procession
© Guillaume Apollinaire
Admire the vital power
And nobility of line:
Its the voice that the light made us understand here
That Hermes Trismegistus writes of in Pimander.
Deborah
© Thomas Parnell
O King subdu'd! O Woman born to fame!
O Wake my fancy for the glorious theme,
O wake my fancy with the sense of praise,
O wake with warblings of triumphant lays.
The Land you rise in sultry suns invade,
But where you rise to sing you'le find a shade.
Christmas Morning
© Eugene Field
The angel host that sped last night,
Bearing the wondrous news afar,
Came in their ever-glorious flight
Unto a slumbering little star.
The Beech Tree
© Edith Nesbit
MY beautiful beech, your smooth grey coat is trimmed
With letters. Once, each stood for all things dear
A Book Of Strife In The Form Of The Diary Of An Old Soul - November
© George MacDonald
1.
THOU art of this world, Christ. Thou know'st it all;
Young England
© Horace Smith
The times still "grow to something strange";
We rap and turn the tables;
The Hours Of Illness
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
How slow creeps time! I hear the midnight chime,
And now late revellers prepare for sleep;
Paris In Spring
© Sara Teasdale
The city's all a-shining
Beneath a fickle sun,
A gay young wind's a-blowing,
The little shower is done.
Thoughts On Jesus Christ's Decent Into Hell
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
A mighty army marches on
By thousand millions follow'd, lo,
To yon dark place makes haste to go
Vigils
© Arthur Rimbaud
II.
The lighting comes round
to the crown post again.
From the two extremities of the room
-- decorations negligible
-- harmonic elevations join.
To The Duchess Of Ferrara
© Torquato Tasso
Royal bride, see the time advance
That calls true lovers to the dance,
George Mullen's Confession
© James Whitcomb Riley
For the sake of guilty conscience, and the heart that ticks the
time
Of the clockworks of my nature, I desire to say that I'm
A weak and sinful creature, as regards my daily walk
The last five years and better. It ain't worth while to talk--
The People
© Pablo Neruda
I, who knew him, saw him descend
till he was no longer except what he left:
roads he could scarcely know,
houses he never ever would live in.
The Virtuoso: In Imitation of Spenser's Style And Stanza
© Mark Akenside
--- Videmus
Nugari solitos.
-Persius
Temple
© John Donne
With His kind mother, who partakes thy woe,
Joseph, turn back ; see where your child doth sit,
Of The Nature Of Things: Book II - Part 05 - Infinite Worlds
© Lucretius
Once more, we all from seed celestial spring,
To all is that same father, from whom earth,
Tale X
© George Crabbe
It is the Soul that sees: the outward eyes
Present the object, but the Mind descries;
And thence delight, disgust, or cool indiff'rence