Time poems
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The Task: Book II. -- The Time-Piece
© William Cowper
In man or woman, but far most in man,
And most of all in man that ministers
And serves the altar, in my soul I loathe
All affectation. 'Tis my perfect scorn;
Object of my implacable disgust.
Ulysses' Last Voyage
© Dante Alighieri
I launched her with my small remaining band
and, putting out to sea, we set the main
on that lone ship and said farewell to land.
The Dance
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
Heel and toe, heel and toe,
That is the song we sing;
Turn to your partner and curtsey low,
Balance and forward and swing.
Corners are draughty and meadows are white,
This is the game for a winter's night.
Spring in Town
© William Cullen Bryant
The country ever has a lagging Spring,
Waiting for May to call its violets forth,
And June its roses--showers and sunshine bring,
Slowly, the deepening verdure o'er the earth;
To put their foliage out, the woods are slack,
And one by one the singing-birds come back.
Lines Left Upon The Seat Of A Yew-Tree,
© William Wordsworth
which stands near the lake of Esthwaite, on a desolate part of the shore, commanding a beautiful prospect.
NAY, Traveller! rest. This lonely Yew-tree stands
Far from all human dwelling: what if here
No sparkling rivulet spread the verdant herb?
445. The Minstel at Lincluden
© Robert Burns
AS I stood by yon roofless tower,
Where the waflowr scents the dery air,
Where the howlet mourns in her ivy bower,
And tells the midnight moon her care.
The 9th Satire Of Book I. Of Horace : The Description Of An Impertinent. Adapted To The Present Time
© William Cowper
Sauntering along the street one day,
On trifles musing by the way,
Polish Flowers
© Julian Tuwim
A box with paints from childhood's time:
The colors of town are earth and grime.
An old worker at a dark doorway squats,
The spuds in his bowl are powdery dry.
It's a face of yellowish and gray spots
In the midst of hunger, cold, dirt and slime.
The Horse & Olive Or Warr & Peace
© Thomas Parnell
With Moral tale let Ancient wisdome move
Which thus I sing to make ye moderns wise
From Torrismond - In A Garden By Moonlight
© Thomas Lovell Beddoes
Veronica. COME then, a song; a winding gentle song,
To lead me into sleep. Let it be low
516. SongIll aye ca in by yon town
© Robert Burns
ChorusIll aye ca in by yon town,
And by yon garden-green again;
Ill aye ca in by yon town,
And see my bonie Jean again.
The Reeds of Runnymede
© Rudyard Kipling
At Runnymede, At Runnymede,
What say the reeds at Runnymede?
The lissom reeds that give and take,
That bend so far, but never break,
They keep the sleepy Thames awake
With tales of John at Runnymede.
The Old Pioneers
© Frank Dalby Davison
h, these old friends of ours! Sixty years back,
Bearded and booted, they followed the track,
Little-Girl-Two-Little-Girls
© James Whitcomb Riley
I'm twins, I guess, 'cause my Ma say
I'm two little girls. An' one o' me
Is _Good_ little girl; an' th'other 'n' she
Is _Bad little girl as she can be!_
An' Ma say so, 'most ever' day.
389. SongDuncan Gray
© Robert Burns
DUNCAN GRAY cam here to woo,
Ha, ha, the wooing ot,
On blythe Yule-night when we were fou,
Ha, ha, the wooing ot,
90. Epistle to James Smith
© Robert Burns
Whilst Ibut I shall haud me there,
Wi you Ill scarce gang ony where
Then, Jamie, I shall say nae mair,
But quat my sang,
Content wi you to mak a pair.
Whareer I gang.
513. SongSteer her up and haud her gaun
© Robert Burns
O STEER her up, an haud her gaun,
Her mithers at the mill, jo;
An gin she winna tak a man,
Een let her tak her will, jo.
415. SongThe last time I cam oer the Moor
© Robert Burns
THE LAST time I came oer the moor,
And left Marias dwelling,
What throes, what tortures passing cure,
Were in my bosom swelling:
Idyll XII. The Comrades
© Theocritus
Art come, dear youth? two days and nights away!
(Who burn with love, grow aged in a day.)
As much as apples sweet the damson crude
Excel; the blooming spring the winter rude;
