Time poems
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The Triumph Of Man
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
I plod and peer amid mean sounds and shapes,
I hunt for dusty gain and dreary praise,
And slowly pass the dismal grinning days,
Monkeying each other like a line of apes.
The Three Kings [1]
© Henry Lawson
The East is dead and the West is done, and again our course lies thus
South-east by Fate and the Rising Sun where the Three Kings* wait for us.
When our hearts are young and the world is wide, and the heights seem grand to climb
We are off and away to the Sydney-side; but the Three Kings bide their time.
Money Won’t Change It (but time will take you on)
© Cornelius Eady
You’re rich, lady, hissed the young woman at
My mother as she bent in her garden.
Look at what you’ve got, and it was
Too much, the collards and tomatoes,
A man, however lousy, taking care
of the bills.
A Color of the Sky
© Tony Hoagland
Windy today and I feel less than brilliant,
driving over the hills from work.
There are the dark parts on the road
when you pass through clumps of wood
and the bright spots where you have a view of the ocean,
but that doesn’t make the road an allegory.
Eternal Friendship
© Edgar Albert Guest
Who once has had a friend has found
The link 'twixt mortal and divine;
Wandering At Morn
© Walt Whitman
There ponder'd, felt I,
If worms, snakes, loathsome grubs, may to sweet spiritual songs be
turn'd,
If vermin so transposed, so used, so bless'd may be,
The Two Elizabeths
© John Greenleaf Whittier
AMIDST Thuringia's wooded hills she dwelt,
A high-born princess, servant of the poor,
Sweetening with gracious words the food she dealt
To starving throngs at Wartburg's blazoned door.
Chance
© Sara Teasdale
HOW many times we must have met
Here on the street as strangers do,
Children of chance we were, who passed
The door of heaven and never knew.
The City (1925)
© Carl Rakosi
Under this Luxemburg of heaven,
upright capstan,
small eagles. . . .
is the port of N.Y. . . . .
Wasted Days
© Oscar Wilde
A fair slim boy not made for this world's pain.
With hair of gold thick clustering round his ears,
Lines written under the conviction that it is not wise to read Mathematics in November after one’s fire is out
© James Clerk Maxwell
In the sad November time,
When the leaf has left the lime,
Another Insane Devotion
© Gerald Stern
This was gruesome—fighting over a ham sandwich
with one of the tiny cats of Rome, he leaped
A Christmas Carol. From The Noei Bourguignon De Gui Barozai
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I hear along our street
Pass the minstrel throngs;
Paradise Lost : Book X.
© John Milton
Mean while the heinous and despiteful act
Of Satan, done in Paradise; and how
How many times these low feet staggered (238)
© Emily Dickinson
How many times these low feet staggered -
Only the soldered mouth can tell -
Try - can you stir the awful rivet -
Try - can you lift the hasps of steel!
The Troubadour. Canto 4
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
But he was safe!--that very day
Farewell, it had been her's to say;
And he was gone to his own land,
To seek another maiden's hand.
The Princess: A Medley: Our Enemies have Fall'n
© Alfred Tennyson
Our enemies have fall'n, have fall'n: they came,
The woodmen with their axes: lo the tree!
But we will make it faggots for the hearth,
And shape it plank and beam for roof and floor,
And boats and bridges for the use of men.
