Time poems
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The Hillside Cot
© William Ellery Channing
And here the hermit sat, and told his beads,
And stroked his flowing locks, red as the fire,
Her Portrait
© Francis Thompson
Oh, but the heavenly grammar did I hold
Of that high speech which angels' tongues turn gold!
Ancient Myths
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
YE pleasant myths of Eld, why have ye fled?
The earth has fallen from her blissful prime
Of summer years, the dews of that sweet time,
Are withered on its garlands sere and dead.
Two Songs
© Francis Ledwidge
I will come no more awhile,
Song-time is over.
A fire is burning in my heart,
I was ever a rover.
Our Saviour And The Samaritan Woman At The Well
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Close beside the crystal waters of Jacobs far-famed well,
Whose dewy coolness gratefully upon the parched air fell,
Reflecting back the bright hot heavens within its waveless breast,
Jesus, foot-sore and weary, had sat Him down to rest.
Henry And Emma. A Poem.
© Matthew Prior
Where beauteous Isis and her husband Thame
With mingled waves for ever flow the same,
In times of yore an ancient baron lived,
Great gifts bestowed, and great respect received.
The Distant Drum
© Henry Lawson
Republicans! the time is coming!
Listen to the distant drumming!
Hearken to the whispers humming
In the troubled atmosphere.
Self-Interogation
© Emily Jane Brontë
"The evening passes fast away.
'Tis almost time to rest;
What thoughts has left the vanished day,
What feelings in thy breast?
Wintering
© Sylvia Plath
This is the easy time, there is nothing doing.
I have whirled the midwife's extractor,
I have my honey,
Six jars of it,
Six cat's eyes in the wine cellar,
On A Sea Wall
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
I sit upon the old sea wall,
And watch the shimmering sea,
Where soft and white the moonbeams fall,
Till, in a fantasy,
Some pure white maiden's funeral pall
The strange light seems to me.
The Sun Hath Twice
© Henry Howard
The sun hath twice brought forth the tender green,
And clad the earth in lively lustiness;
unbroken gloom.
© Saigyo
times when unbroken
gloom is over all our world
over which still
sits the ever brilliant moon
sight of it casts me down more
What I Have Come For
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
I HAVE come with my verses--I think I may claim
It is not the first time I have tried on the same.
They were puckered in rhyme, they were wrinkled in wit;
But your hearts were so large that they made them a fit.
Paracelsus: Part II: Paracelsus Attains
© Robert Browning
Ay, my brave chronicler, and this same hour
As well as any: now, let my time be!
If love be holy, if that mystery
© John Marston
If love be holy, if that mystery
O co-united hearts be sacrament;
If the unbounded goodness have infused
A sacred ardour of a mutual love
An Old Friend
© James Whitcomb Riley
Hey, Old Midsummer! are you here again,
With all your harvest-store of olden joys,--
The Angel In The House. Book II. Canto VII.
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
Preludes.
I Joy and Use
The Daisies
© Edith Nesbit
In the great green park with the wooden palings -
The wooden palings so hard to climb,
At a Certain Age by Deborah Cummins: American Life in Poetry #138 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 200
© Ted Kooser
You've surely heard it said that the old ought to move over to make room for the young. But in the best of all possible worlds, people who love their work should be able to do it as long as they wish. Those forced to retire, well, they're a sorry lot. Here the Chicago poet, Deborah Cummins, shows a man trying to adjust to life after work.
At a Certain Age
