Time poems
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440. Address spoken by Miss Fontenelle
© Robert Burns
I could no moreaskance the creature eyeing,
Dye think, said I, this face was made for crying?
Ill laugh, thats poznay more, the world shall know it;
And so, your servant! gloomy Master Poet!
299. SketchNew Years Day, 1790
© Robert Burns
THIS day, Time winds th exhausted chain;
To run the twelvemonths length again:
I see, the old bald-pated fellow,
With ardent eyes, complexion sallow,
A Poem Beginning With A Line From Pindar
© Robert Duncan
But the eyes in Goyas painting are soft,
diffuse with rapture absorb the flame.
Their bodies yield out of strength.
Waves of visual pleasure
wrap them in a sorrow previous to their impatience.
544. SongCrowdie ever mair
© Robert Burns
O THAT I had neer been married,
I wad never had nae care,
Now Ive gotten wife an weans,
An they cry Crowdie evermair.
127. Stanzas on Naething
© Robert Burns
TO you, sir, this summons Ive sent,
Pray, whip till the pownie is freathing;
But if you demand what I want,
I honestly answer younaething.
The Gadfly
© John Keats
1.
All gentle folks who owe a grudge
To any living thing
Open your ears and stay your t[r]udge
Whilst I in dudgeon sing.
29. SongThe Rigs o Barley
© Robert Burns
Corn rigs, an barley rigs,
An corn rigs are bonie:
Ill neer forget that happy night,
Amang the rigs wi Annie.
295. Epistle to Dr. Blacklock
© Robert Burns
My compliments to sister Beckie,
And eke the same to honest Lucky;
I wat she is a daintie chuckie,
As eer tread clay;
And gratefully, my gude auld cockie,
Im yours for aye.ROBERT BURNS.
South Carolina To The States Of The North
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
I LIFT these hands with iron fetters banded:
Beneath the scornful sunlight and cold stars
I rear my once imperial forehead branded
By alien shame's immedicable scars;
300. Scots Prologue for Mr. Sutherland
© Robert Burns
WHAT needs this din about the town o Lonon,
How this new play an that new sang is comin?
Why is outlandish stuff sae meikle courted?
Does nonsense mend, like brandy, when imported?
147. Address to a Haggis
© Robert Burns
Ye Powrs, wha mak mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill o fare,
Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware
That jaups in luggies;
But, if ye wish her gratefu prayer
Gie her a haggis!
The House Of Dust: Part 03: 09:
© Conrad Aiken
We sit together and talk, or smoke in silence.
You say (but use no words) 'this night is passing
As other nights when we are dead will pass . . .'
Perhaps I misconstrue you: you mean only,
'How deathly pale my face looks in that glass . . .'
409. EpigramThe Raptures of Folly
© Robert Burns
THOU greybeard, old Wisdom! may boast of thy treasures;
Give me with young Folly to live;
I grant thee thy calm-blooded, time-settled pleasures,
But Folly has raptures to give.
254. Caledonia: A Ballad
© Robert Burns
THERE was once a day, but old Time wasythen young,
That brave Caledonia, the chief of her line,
From some of your northern deities sprung,
(Who knows not that brave Caledonias divine?)
18. The First Six Verses of the Ninetieth Psalm versified
© Robert Burns
O THOU, the first, the greatest friend
Of all the human race!
Whose strong right hand has ever been
Their stay and dwelling place!
The Ballad of the White Horse
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Of great limbs gone to chaos,
A great face turned to night-
Why bend above a shapeless shroud
Seeking in such archaic cloud
Sight of strong lords and light?
175. Epigram to Miss Jean Scott
© Robert Burns
O HAD each Scot of ancient times
Been, Jeanie Scott, as thou art;
The bravest heart on English ground
Had yielded like a coward.
11. SongHeres to thy health, my bonie lass
© Robert Burns
HERES to thy health, my bonie lass,
Gude nicht and joy be wi thee;
Ill come nae mair to thy bower-door,
To tell thee that I loe thee.
A Little Grey Curl
© Louisa May Alcott
A little grey curl from my father's head
I find unburned on the hearth,
Howard At Atlanta
© John Greenleaf Whittier
RIGHT in the track where Sherman
Ploughed his red furrow,
Out of the narrow cabin,
Up from the cellar's burrow,
