Time poems
/ page 297 of 792 /The Lost Galleon
© Francis Bret Harte
In sixteen hundred and forty-one,
The regular yearly galleon,
Laden with odorous gums and spice,
India cottons and India rice,
And the richest silks of far Cathay,
Was due at Acapulco Bay.
Roman Elegies
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Then would the world be no world, then would e'en Rome be no Rome.
-----
Do not repent, mine own love, that thou so soon didst surrender
To The Same
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
Töchterchenlein, by whom the least became
The greatest title of dear Daughterhood,
Mr. Hosea Biglow To The Editor Of The Atlantic Monthly
© James Russell Lowell
DEAR SIR,--Your letter come to han'
Requestin' me to please be funny;
Wortermelon Time
© James Whitcomb Riley
Old wortermelon time is a-comin' round again,
And they ain't no man a-livin' any tickleder'n me,
Fer the way I hanker after wortermelons is a sin--
Which is the why and wharefore, as you can plainly see.
The Lure That Failed
© Edgar Albert Guest
I know a wonderful land, I said,
Where the skies are always blue,
To June
© George MacDonald
Ah, truant, thou art here again, I see!
For in a season of such wretched weather
The Mother's Return
© William Wordsworth
A MONTH, sweet Little-ones, is past
Since your dear Mother went away,--
And she tomorrow will return;
Tomorrow is the happy day.
The Cloak
© Ezra Pound
Thou keep'st thy rose-leaf
Till the rose-time will be over,
Think'st thou that Death will kiss thee?
Think'st thou that the Dark House
Will find thee such a lover
As I? Will the new roses miss thee?
The Ebb Of War
© Robert Laurence Binyon
In the seven--times taken and re--taken town
Peace! The mind stops; sense argues against sense.
The August sun is ghostly in the street
As if the Silence of a thousand years
The Death Of Day
© Richard Monckton Milnes
Full of hours, the Day is falling
Where its brethren lie,--
A stern and royal voice is calling
The beautiful to die.
Two Visits To A Grave
© Richard Monckton Milnes
I stood by the grave of one beloved,
On a chill and windless night,--
When not a blade of grass was moved,
In its rigid sheath of white.
The Joy Of Life.
© Robert Crawford
I have the man's-heart in me, and 'tis noble
To be alive, to think, to feel, to have
My part in all the precious come-and-go
Of all things here. My very blood's a-tune
Madrigal In Time Of War
© John Frederick Nims
Beside the rivers of the midnight town
Where four-foot couples love and paupers drown,
Shots of quick hell we took, our final kiss,
The great and swinging bridge a bower for this.
Orpheus
© Emma Lazarus
ORPHEUS.
LAUGHTER and dance, and sounds of harp and lyre,
Piping of flutes, singing of festal songs,
Ribbons of flame from flaunting torches, dulled
The Passionate Pilgrim
© William Shakespeare
Her lips to mine how often hath she joined,
Between each kiss her oaths of true love swearing!
How many tales to please me bath she coined,
Dreading my love, the loss thereof still fearing!
Yet in the midst of all her pure protestings,
Her faith, her oaths, her tears, and all were jestings.
The Immortality Of Rome
© Richard Monckton Milnes
``Urbi et Orbi,''--mystic euphony,
What depth of Christian meaning lies in Thee!
How, from this world apart, this world above,
Selected by a special will of Love,
When The Great Gray Ships Come In
© Guy Wetmore Carryl
To eastward ringing, to westward winging, o'er mapless miles of sea,
On winds and tides the gospel rides that the furthermost isles are free;