Time poems
/ page 285 of 792 /
Mute Discourse.
© James Brunton Stephens
GOD speaks by silence. Voice-dividing man,
Who cannot triumph but he saith, Aha
Processional
© Madison Julius Cawein
Universes are the pages
Of that book whose words are ages;
Of that book which destiny
Opens in eternity.
If Amy Lowell Had Been James Whitcomb Riley
© Franklin Pierce Adams
When you came you were like red wine and honey,
And the taste of you burnt my mouth with its sweetness.
Now you are like morning bread-
Smooth and pleasant,
I hardly taste you at all, for I know your savour,
But I am completely nourished.
Told By "The Noted Traveler"
© James Whitcomb Riley
Even so had they wrought all ways
To earn the pennies, and hoard them, too,--
And with what ultimate end in view?--
They were saving up money enough to be
Able, in time, to buy their own
Five children back.
Otho The Great - Act II
© John Keats
SCENE I. An Ante-chamber in the Castle.
Enter LUDOLPH and SIGIFRED.
At A House In Hampstead Sometime The Dwelling Of John Keats
© Thomas Hardy
O poet, come you haunting here
Where streets have stolen up all around,
And never a nightingale pours one
Full-throated sound?
The Muses Threnodie: First Muse
© Henry Adamson
Of Mr George Ruthven the tears and mournings,
Amidst the giddie course of fortune's turnings,
Upon his dear friend's death, Mr John Gall,
Where his rare ornaments bear a part, and wretched Gabions all.
Gratefully And Affectionately Inscribed To Joel Chandler Harris
© James Whitcomb Riley
_You who to the rounded prime_
_Of a life of toil and stress_,
Sonnet. "Nay, let the Past be past, nor strive in vain"
© Frances Anne Kemble
Nay, let the Past be past, nor strive in vain,
From the dim backward vista of our years
Right Of Way
© Henry Herbert Knibbs
"Save your hoss for the hills ahead," is the cowboy's placid song.
While his clear eyes follow the twinkling train as the Titan speeds along;
Old Rhythm And Rhyme
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Below in the village a church bell was chiming,
And back in the woodland a little bird sang;
And, doubt it who will, yet those two sounds were rhyming,
As out o'er the hill-tops they echoed and rang.
A Reed Shaken In The Wind
© Madison Julius Cawein
To say to hope,--Take all from me,
And grant me naught:
The rose, the song, the melody,
The word, the thought:
Then all my life bid me be slave,--
Is all I crave.
Italy : 9. The Alps
© Samuel Rogers
Who first beholds those everlasting clouds,
Seed-time and harvest, morning, noon and night,
Still where they were, steadfast, immovable;
Those mighty hills, so shadowy, so sublime,
England! The Time Is Come When Thou Shouldst Wean
© William Wordsworth
ENGLAND! the time is come when thou should'st wean
Thy heart from its emasculating food;
The truth should now be better understood;
Old things have been unsettled; we have seen
Love's Worship Restored
© Robert Fuller Murray
O Love, thine empire is not dead,
Nor will we let thy worship go,
The Cyclamen
© Arlo Bates
OVER the plains where Persian hosts
Laid down their lives for glory
Flutter the cyclamens, like ghosts
That witness to their story.
Oh, fair! Oh, white! Oh, pure as snow!
On countless graves how sweet they grow!
Thomas The Pretender
© James Whitcomb Riley
Tommy's alluz playin' jokes,
An' actin' up, an' foolin' folks;
A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet XXX
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
'Tis time I stepped from Horeb to the plain.
Mountains, farewell. I need a heavier air.
Youth's memories are not good for souls in pain,
And each new age has its own meed of care.
