Time poems
/ page 268 of 792 /Poem 2 From Pierce Penilesse
© Thomas Nashe
Perusing yesternight with idle eyes,
The Fairy Singers stately tuned verse:
And viewing after Chap-mens wonted guise,
What strange contents the title did rehearse.
Quatrains
© Herbert Bashford
LONG hours we toiled up through the solemn wood
Beneath moss-banners stretched from tree to tree;
At last upon a barren hill we stood
And, lo, above loomed Majesty!
An Old Umbrella
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
AN old umbrella in the hall,
Battered and baggy, quaint and queer;
By all the rains of many a year
Bent, stained, and faded that is all.
In Snow-Time
© Anonymous
How should I chose to walk the world with thee,
Mine own beloved? When green grass is stirred
By summer breezes, and each leafy tree
Shelters the nest of many a singing bird?
Of The Nature Of Things: Book III - Part 04 - Folly Of The Fear Of Death
© Lucretius
Therefore death to us
Is nothing, nor concerns us in the least,
Autumn.
© Ada Cambridge
So still-so still! Only the endless sighing
Of sad Æolian harp-notes overhead;
Only the soft mass-music for the dying;
Only the requiem for the newly dead!
When the Leaves Fall
© James Brunton Stephens
WHEN the leaves fall off the trees
Everybody walks on them :
Once they had a time of ease
High above, and every breeze
Used to stay and talk to them.
Gleaners Of Fame
© Alfred Austin
Hearken not, friend, for the resounding din
That did the Poet's verses once acclaim:
The Happy Printer
© Henry Austin Dobson
The Printer's is a happy lot:
Alone of all professions,
No fateful smudges ever blot
His earliest "impressions."
Love's Apotheosis
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
Love me. I care not what the circling years
To me may do.
If, but in spite of time and tears,
You prove but true.
How It Was
© Czeslaw Milosz
Stalking a deer I wandered deep into the mountains and from there I saw.
Or perhaps it was for some other reason that I rose above the setting sun.
"You rosebud sweet and fair"
© Ambrosius Stub
You rosebud sweet and fair!
Close to, let me inspect you!
Alfred. Book VI.
© Henry James Pye
But when he views, along the tented field,
With trailing banner, and inverted shield,
Young Donald, borne by Scotia's weeping bands,
In deeper woe the generous hero stands.
The Bear-Story
© James Whitcomb Riley
THAT ALEX "IST MAKED UP HIS-OWN-SE'F"
W'y, wunst they wuz a Little Boy went out