Time poems
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The Empty Hills
© Yvor Winters
The grandeur of deep afternoons,
The pomp of haze on marble hills,
Where every white-walled villa swoons
Through violence that heat fulfills,
Phi Beta Kappa Poem
© Bliss William Carman
Harvard, 1914
SIR, friends, and scholars, we are here to serve
A high occasion. Our New England wears
All her unrivalled beauty as of old;
From The Cuckoo And The Nightingale
© William Wordsworth
The God of Love-"ah, benedicite!"
How mighty and how great a Lord is he!
For he of low hearts can make high, of high
He can make low, and unto death bring nigh;
And hard-hearts he can make them kind and free.
Estranged
© James Benjamin Kenyon
THEY met, and all the world was fair;
Fair, too, were they as any pair
Of birds of paradise;
They met, and never meant to part,
But oh! time chills the warmest heart,
And dims the brightest eyes.
Winter Morning
© James Phillip McAuley
Spring stars glitter in the freezing sky,
Trees on watch are armoured with frost.
In the dark tarn of a mirror a face appears.
Time is moving through displacements.
The Two Thieves; Or, The Last Stage Of Avarice
© William Wordsworth
O NOW that the genius of Bewick were mine,
And the skill which he learned on the banks of the Tyne.
Then the Muses might deal with me just as they chose,
For I'd take my last leave both of verse and of prose.
Anhelli - Chapter 5
© Juliusz Slowacki
And so the Shaman and Anhelli made their pilgrimage through the sorrowful country
and over the desolate roads and under the roaring forests of Siberia,
meeting men who suffered, and comforting them.
A Song Of Keats
© Roderic Quinn
'TIS a tarnished book and old,
Edges frayed and covers green!
But, between the covers, gold
Gold and jewels in between.
A Ballad Of Fair Ladies In Revolt
© George Meredith
See the sweet women, friend, that lean beneath
The ever-falling fountain of green leaves
Round the white bending stem, and like a wreath
Of our most blushful flower shine trembling through,
To teach philosophers the thirst of thieves:
Is one for me? is one for you?
St. Martin's Summer
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Though flowers have perished at the touch
Of Frost, the early comer,
I hail the season loved so much,
The good St. Martin's summer.
The Charm
© Thomas Campion
Thrice toss these oaken ashes in the air,
Thrice sit thou mute in this enchanted chair,
On Sr Charles Porter The Chancellours Death
© Thomas Parnell
& tis too true alass! we find, he's gonn,
Virtue from earth a second time is flown,
The Same Old Story
© James Whitcomb Riley
The same old story told again--
The maiden droops her head,
Hermann And Dorothea - VII. Erato
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Joyfully heard the youth the willing maiden's decision,
Doubting whether he now had not better tell her the whole truth;
But it appear'd to him best to let her remain in her error,
First to take her home, and then for her love to entreat her.
Ah! but now he espied a golden ring on her finger,
And so let her speak, while he attentively listen'd:--
The Pampered Lapdog And The Misguided Ass
© Guy Wetmore Carryl
A woolly little terrier pup
Gave vent to yelps distressing,
Whereat his mistress took him up
And soothed him with caressing,
And yet he was not in the least
What one would call a handsome beast.
The Philanthropic Society
© William Lisle Bowles
INSCRIBED TO THE DUKE OF LEEDS.
When Want, with wasted mien and haggard eye,
The Travelling Bear
© Amy Lowell
GRASS-BLADES push up between the cobblestones
And catch the sun on their flat sides
