Time poems
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Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 1. The Theologian's Tale; Torquemada
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
O pitiless skies! why did your clouds retain
For peasants' fields their floods of hoarded rain?
O pitiless earth! why open no abyss
To bury in its chasm a crime like this?
Dirge For A Soldier
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
In the east the morning comes,
Hear the rollin' of the drums
James Longstreet
© Anonymous
With muffled drums and the flag that was furled
With the cause that was lost, when the last smoke curled
The Muses Threnodie: Eighth Muse
© Henry Adamson
What blooming banks, sweet Earn, or fairest Tay,
Or Almond doth embrace! These many a day
The Haughty Actor
© William Schwenck Gilbert
"Too bad," said GIBBS, "my case to shirk!
You must be bad innately,
To save your skill for mighty work
Because it's valued greatly!"
But here he woke, with sudden start.
Composed Just After Midnight On The 31st Of December, 1878
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
A MOMENT since his breath dissolved in air!
And now divorced from life's last hectic glow,
He joins the old ghostly years of long ago,
In some cloud-folded realm of vague despair;
Portrait From The Infantry
© Alan Dugan
He smelled bad and was red-eyed with the miseries
of being scared while sleepless when he said
Threnody
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Upon your hearse this flower I lay
Brief be your sleep! You shall be known
When lesser men have had their day:
Fame blossoms where true seed is sown,
Or soon or late, let Time wound what it may.
The Cataract of Lodore
© Robert Southey
And glittering and frittering,
And gathering and feathering,
And whitening and brightening,
And quivering and shivering,
And hurrying and skurrying,
And thundering and floundering;
The Captive
© James Russell Lowell
It was past the hour of trysting,
But she lingered for him still;
Like a child, the eager streamlet
Leaped and laughed adown the hill,
Happy to be free at twilight
From its toiling at the mill.
First Love
© Shimazaki Toson
you had swept back your bangs for the first time
when I saw you under the apple tree
the flower-comb in your hair
I thought you yourself were a flower too.
The Friends of Fallen Fortunes
© Henry Lawson
The battlefield behind us,
And night loomed on the track;
Recollections Of A Faded Beauty
© Caroline Norton
There was a certain Irishman, indeed,
Who borrowed Cupid's darts to make me bleed.
My aunt said he was vulgar; he was poor,
And his boots creaked, and dirtied her smooth floor.
She hated him; and when he went away,
He wrote--I have the verses to this day:--
Judy
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
The waitress with the orange hair keeps motionin' me to hurry up and leave
I gulp my coffee - burn my mouth - grab up my coat and slippin' out
I smear a streak of mustard down my sleeve
And the guy behind the register takes my bread and shakes his head
Mons Angelorum
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
Joshua O father of my soul, I cannot tell.
The burden of the Lord is heavy on me,
And I am broken beneath it.
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 3. Interlude III.
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Thus ran the Student's pleasant rhyme
Of Eginhard and love and youth;
Topsy-Turvy World
© William Brighty Rands
IF the butterfly courted the bee,
And the owl the porcupine;
