Time poems
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The Cut-Down Trousers
© Edgar Albert Guest
When father couldn't wear them mother cut them down for me;
She took the slack in fore and aft, and hemmed them at the knee;
They fitted rather loosely, but the things that made me glad
Were the horizontal pockets that those good old trousers had.
The Wreck Of Rivermouth
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Rivermouth Rocks are fair to see,
By dawn or sunset shone across,
Upon The Hour Glass
© John Bunyan
This glass, when made, was, by the workman's skill,
The sum of sixty minutes to fulfil.
Homage To Sextus Propertius - V
© Ezra Pound
2
Yet you ask on what account I write so many love-lyrics
And whence this soft book comes into my mouth.
Neither Calliope nor Apollo sung these things into my ear,
My genius is no more than a girl.
The Australian Muse
© Leon Gellert
Uplift thy lyre, and touch the tender strings;
But leave unsung the epics of thy land
To Mr. Murray (Strahan, Tonson Lintot Of The Times)
© George Gordon Byron
Strahan, Tonson Lintot of the times,
Patron and publisher of rhymes,
For thee the bard up Pindus climbs,
My Murray.
Beranger's "To My Old Coat"
© Eugene Field
Still serve me in my age, I pray,
As in my youth, O faithful one;
Captain Von Esson of the Sebastopol
© Henry Lawson
Till each was sunk that the Russians leftwhile the buildings reeled with the shock,
Save the last of the Russian ships of warthe Sebastopolin dock.
And this is the reasontold in a linewhy there is a tale to tell:
The Sebastopol had a man for boss, and a crew that knew it well.
Buttercups and Daisies
© Eliza Cook
I never see a young hand hold
The starry bunch of white and gold,
Plenty In A Time Of Dearth
© John Newton
My soul once had its plenteous years,
And throve, with peace and comfort filled,
Like the fat kine and ripened ears,
Which Pharaoh in his dream beheld.
The Palatine
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Leagues north, as fly the gull and auk,
Point Judith watches with eye of hawk;
Leagues south, thy beacon flames, Montauk!
The Perfect Present.
© Arthur Henry Adams
SO I have kissed you! And this hour is mine.
Its light along the level future lasts,
It crowns a drab eternity of Pasts!
Here soul and soul have crossed the border-line
The Temple of Fame
© Alexander Pope
In that soft season, when descending show'rs
Call forth the greens, and wake the rising flow'rs;
To The Memory Of Hood
© James Russell Lowell
Another star 'neath Time's horizon dropped,
To gleam o'er unknown lands and seas;
Another heart that beat for freedom stopped,--
What mournful words are these!
