Time poems
/ page 339 of 792 /Fragments - Lines 1327 - 1334
© Theognis of Megara
My boy, as long as your cheeks and chin are smooth, I shall never
Cease to praise you, not even if I am fated to die.
The Curse Of Hungary
© John Hay
Saloman looked from his donjon bars,
Where the Danube clamors through sedge and sand,
And he cursed with a curse his revolting land,--
With a king's deep curse of treason and wars.
The Door and the Window
© Henry Reed
My love, you are timely come, let me lie by your heart.
For waking in the dark this morning, I woke to that mystery,
Which we can all wake to, at some dark time or another:
Waking to find the room not as I thought it was,
But the window further away, and the door in another direction.
The Funeral of Youth: Threnody
© Rupert Brooke
The Day that Youth had died,
There came to his grave-side,
In decent mourning, from the countrys ends,
Those scatterd friends
Goddess In The Wood, The
© Rupert Brooke
Till a swift terror broke the abrupt hour.
The gold waves purled amidst the green above her;
And a bird sang. With one sharp-taken breath,
By sunlit branches and unshaken flower,
The immortal limbs flashed to the human lover,
And the immortal eyes to look on death.
Ode to Memory
© Alfred Tennyson
O strengthen me, englighten me!
I faint in this obscurity,
Thou dewy dawn of memory.
Going Deaf by Miller Williams: American Life in Poetry #209 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
I've gotten to the age at which I am starting to strain to hear things, but I am glad to have gotten to that age, all the same. Here's a fine poem by Miller Williams of Arkansas that gets inside a person who is losing her hearing.
Going Deaf
Al Aaraaf: Part 2
© Edgar Allan Poe
"My Angelo! and why of them to be?
A brighter dwelling-place is here for thee-
And greener fields than in yon world above,
And woman's loveliness- and passionate love."
And love has changed to kindliness
© Rupert Brooke
When love has changed to kindliness --
Oh, love, our hungry lips, that press
So tight that Time's an old god's dream
Nodding in heaven, and whisper stuff
Dead Men's Love
© Rupert Brooke
There was a damned successful Poet;
There was a Woman like the Sun.
And they were dead. They did not know it.
They did not know their time was done.
A Memory
© Rupert Brooke
(From a sonnet-sequence)
Somewhile before the dawn I rose, and stept
Softly along the dim way to your room,
And found you sleeping in the quiet gloom,
Safety
© Rupert Brooke
Dear! of all happy in the hour, most blest
He who has found our hid security,
Assured in the dark tides of the world that rest,
And heard our word, 'Who is so safe as we?'
The Woodsmen Of San Juan
© Jose Asuncion Silva
See the woodsmen of San Juan,
They want bread before its gone.
Sss-sss-sawing,
Sawing on!
Funeral Of Youth, The: Threnody
© Rupert Brooke
The day that YOUTH had died,
There came to his grave-side,
In decent mourning, from the country's ends,
Those scatter'd friends
The Dead Wife
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Thrice turned she in her narrow bed,
His tears disturbed her rest;
The Stricken South To The North
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
WHEN ruthful time the South's memorial places--
Her heroes' graves--had wreathed in grass and flowers;
When Peace ethereal, crowned by all her graces,
Returned to make more bright the summer hours;
II. Safety
© Rupert Brooke
Dear! of all happy in the hour, most blest
He who has found our hid security,
Assured in the dark tides of the world that rest,
And heard our word, `Who is so safe as we?'