Time poems
/ page 328 of 792 /
To E. H. K.
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
ON THE RECEIPT OF A FAMILIAR POEM
To me, like hauntings of a vagrant breath
My Darlin' Girl From Clare
© William Percy French
We were sittin' on the wall upon a Sunday
To watch the girls go by,
The Zonnebeke Road
© Edmund Blunden
Morning, if this late withered light can claim
Some kindred with that merry flame
Thunder On The Downs
© Robert Laurence Binyon
And if a lightning now were loosed in flame
Out of the darkness of the cloud to claim
Thy heart, O England, how wouldst thou be known
In that hour? How to the quick core be shown
And seen? What cry should from thy very soul
Answer the judgment of that thunder--roll?
Abraham Lincoln
© Margaret Elizabeth Sangster
Child of the boundless prairie, son of the virgin soil,
Heir to the bearing of burdens, brother to them that toil;
God and Nature together shaped him to lead in the van,
In the stress of her wildest weather when the Nation needed
a Man.
Thirty-Eight
© Charlotte Turner Smith
ADDRESSED TO MRS. H------Y.
IN early youth's unclouded scene,
The brilliant morning of eighteen,
With health and sprightly joy elate
Time, Hope And Memory
© Thomas Hood
I heard a gentle maiden, in the spring,
Set her sweet sighs to music, and thus sing:
"Fly through the world, and I will follow thee,
Only for looks that may turn back on me;
The Old Love
© Augusta Davies Webster
I
You love me, only me. Do I not know?
If I were gone your life would be no more
Than his who, hungering on a rocky shore,
Endymion: A Mystical Comment On Titian's 'Sacred And Profane Love'
© James Russell Lowell
Long she abode aloof there in her heaven,
Far as the grape-bunch of the Pleiad seven
Beyond my madness' utmost leap; but here
Mine eyes have feigned of late her rapture near,
Moulded of mind-mist that broad day dispels,
Here in these shadowy woods and brook-lulled dells.
Transformation
© Madison Julius Cawein
It is the time when, by the forest falls,
The touchmenots hang fairy folly-caps;
The Mistress Of Vision
© Francis Thompson
Secret was the garden;
Set i' the pathless awe
Where no star its breath can draw.
Life, that is its warden,
Sits behind the fosse of death. Mine eyes saw not,
and I saw.
From: Time In The Rock
© Conrad Aiken
These things do not perplex, these things are simple,
but what of the heart that wishes to survive change
and cannot, its love lost in confusions and dismay?
what of the thought dispersed in its own algebras,
hypothesis proved fallacy? what of the will
which finds its aim unworthy? Are these, too, simple?
Improvisations: Light And Snow: 02
© Conrad Aiken
I stood for a long while before the shop window
Looking at the blue butterflies embroidered on tawny silk.
Thoughts on Predestination and Reprobation : Part II.
© John Byrom
Pagan - said I - I must retract the word,
For the poor Pagans were not so absurd:
A Recompense
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
The hound that followed at my heel
Looked up with eyes so full of love
I kissed the curly brows between
And blessed the God above.
Foresight And Patience
© George Meredith
Sprung of the father blood, the mother brain,
Are they who point our pathway and sustain.
They rarely meet; one soars, one walks retired.
When they do meet, it is our earth inspired.
It's_Got_To Be
© James Whitcomb Riley
It's _got_ to be, and it's _goin'_ to be!
So at least I always try
To kind o' say in a hearty way,--
"Well, it's _got_ to be. Good-by!"
