Time poems
/ page 408 of 792 /kitchenette building
© Gwendolyn Brooks
We are things of dry hours and the involuntary plan,
Grayed in, and gray. “Dream” makes a giddy sound, not strong
Like “rent,” “feeding a wife,” “satisfying a man.”
Bird Parliament (translation of)
© Edward Fitzgerald
And first, with Heart so full as from his Eyes
Ran weeping, up rose Tajidar the Wise;
The mystic Mark upon whose Bosom show'd
That He alone of all the Birds THE ROAD
Had travell'd: and the Crown upon his Head
Had reach'd the Goal; and He stood forth and said:
Hyacinth
© Louise Gluck
2
There were no flowers in antiquity
but boys’ bodies, pale, perfectly imagined.
So the gods sank to human shape with longing.
In the field, in the willow grove,
Apollo sent the courtiers away.
The Summer Bower
© Henry Timrod
It is a place whither Ive often gone
For peace, and found it, secret, hushed, and cool,
November Cotton Flower
© Jean Toomer
Boll-weevil’s coming, and the winter’s cold,
Made cotton-stalks look rusty, seasons old,
I Gili Romaneskro
© Charles Godfrey Leland
Schunava, ke baschno del a godla,
Schunava Paschomaskro.
Te del miro Dewel tumen
Dschavena Bachtallo.
Wordsworth At Dove Cottage
© Alfred Austin
Wise Wordsworth, to avert your ken,
From half of human fate.
The Purgatory Of St. Patrick - Act I
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
KING. Yes, from this rocky height,
Nigh to the sun, that with one starry light
Its rugged brow doth crown,
Headlong among the salt waves leaping down
Let him descend who so much pain perceives;
There let him raging die who raging lives.
Reading the Bible Backwards
© Hugo Williams
All around the altar, huge lianas
curled, unfurled the dark green
Whoever You Are Holding Me Now in Hand
© Walt Whitman
Whoever you are holding me now in hand,
Without one thing all will be useless,
I give you fair warning before you attempt me further,
I am not what you supposed, but far different.
Speakin' O' Christmas
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
BREEZES blowin' middlin' brisk,
Snow-flakes thro' the air a-whisk,
The Canon Of Aughrim
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
You ask me of English honour, whether your Nation is just?
Justice for us is a word divine, a name we revere,
Alas, no more than a name, a thing laid by in the dust.
The world shall know it again, but not in this month or year.
Unmediated experience
© Richard Jones
She does this thing. Our seventeen-
year-old dog. Our mostly deaf dog.
The Prime of Life
© Henry Lawson
OH, the strength of the toil of those twenty years, with father, and master, and men!
And the clearer brain of the business man, who has held his own for ten:
Oh, the glorious freedom from business fears, and the rest from domestic strife!
The past is dead, and the future assured, and Im in the prime of life!
The Shepherds Calendar - May
© John Clare
Come queen of months in company
Wi all thy merry minstrelsy
The restless cuckoo absent long
And twittering swallows chimney song