Time poems

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Divisions On A Ground

© Arthur Symons

I

Beloved, there is a sorrow in the world

In Front Of A Candle

© Paul Celan

With night-shrouded
Lips,
I speak the Blessing:

In The Mist

© Paul Hamilton Hayne

MORE fearful grows the hillside way,
The gloom no softening breeze hath kissed!
I glance far upward to the day,
But scarce can catch one faltering ray
From out the mist!

Dorothy D.

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

I'm sick of "musn'ts," said Dorothy D.
Sick of musn'ts, as I can be.
From early dawn till the close of day
I hear a musn't, and never a may.

An Hymne In Honour Of Love

© Edmund Spenser

Why then do I this honor unto thee,
Thus to ennoble thy victorious name,
Sith thou doest shew no favour unto mee,
Ne once move ruth in that rebellious dame,

The Seven Year Old Poet

© Arthur Rimbaud

And so the Mother, shutting up the duty book,

Went, proud and satisfied.

Time was, when first that voice I heard,
Despite my close and tense endeavour,
When many an important word
Was lost and gone forever;
Though, unlike others at the play,
I never whispered: "wha'd'd she say?"

Time To Rise

© Robert Louis Stevenson

A birdie with a yellow bill
Hopped upon my window sill,
Cocked his shining eye and said:
"Ain't you 'shamed, you sleepy-head!"

The Gulf of All Human Possessions

© Jonathan Swift

Come hither, and behold the fruits,
Vain man! of all thy vain pursuits.
Take wise advice, and look behind,
Bring all past actions to thy mind.

Ad Astra

© George Essex Evans

Cleaving the blue abysmal without sound,
Pressed on my soul I felt the awful seals
Of that vast Cosmos without depth or bound,
Blazing with golden wheels.

The Riding Camel

© William Henry Ogilvie

I was Junda's riding camel. I went in front of the train.
I was hung with shells of the Orient, from saddle and cinch and rein.
I was sour as a snake to handle, and rough a rock to ride,
But I could keep up with the west wind, and my pace was Junda's pride.

A Backward Look

As I sat smoking, alone, yesterday,

And lazily leaning back in my chair,

Limbo

The sole true Something--This ! In Limbo Den
It frightens Ghosts as Ghosts here frighten men--
For skimming in the wake it mock'd the care
Of the old Boat-God for his Farthing Fare;