Time poems
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The French Revolution as it appeared to Enthusiasts
© William Wordsworth
. Oh! pleasant exercise of hope and joy!
For mighty were the auxiliars which then stood
A Summer Garden
© Louise Gluck
1
Several weeks ago I discovered a photograph of my mother
sitting in the sun, her face flushed as with achievement or triumph.
The sun was shining. The dogs
were sleeping at her feet where time was also sleeping,
calm and unmoving as in all photographs.
Baby Villon
© Philip Levine
He tells me in Bangkok he’s robbed
Because he’s white; in London because he’s black;
In Barcelona, Jew; in Paris, Arab:
Everywhere and at all times, and he fights back.
They are hostile nations
© Margaret Atwood
In view of the fading animals
the proliferation of sewers and fears
the sea clogging, the air
nearing extinction
from The Vanity of Human Wishes
© Henry James Pye
Yet still one genral cry the skies assails,
And gain and grandeur load the tainted gales,
Few know the toiling statesmans fear or care,
Th insidious rival and the gaping heir.
From 'Love And The Universe'
© Albert Durrant Watson
THE voiceless symphony of moor and highland,
The rainbow on the mist,
from The Bridge: The Tunnel
© Hart Crane
Or can’t you quite make up your mind to ride;
A walk is better underneath the L a brisk
Ten blocks or so before? But you find yourself
Preparing penguin flexions of the arms,—
As usual you will meet the scuttle yawn:
The subway yawns the quickest promise home.
Venus of the Louvre
© Emma Lazarus
Down the long hall she glistens like a star,
The foam-born mother of Love, transfixed to stone,
Two Robbers
© Francis William Bourdillon
When Death from some fair face
Is stealing life away,
All weep, save she, the grace
That earth shall lose today.
Sonnet XXII: Come Time
© Samuel Daniel
Come Time, the anchor-hold of my desire,
My last resort whereto my hopes appeal,
America
© Phillis Wheatley
New England first a wilderness was found
Till for a continent 'twas destin'd round
The Bounty
© Derek Walcott
Between the vision of the Tourist Board and the true
Paradise lies the desert where Isaiah’s elations
force a rose from the sand. The thirty-third canto
Ring Ring The Banjo
© Stephen C. Foster
De time is nebber dreary if de darkey nebber groans;
De ladies nebber weary wid de rattle of de bones:
Den come again Susanna by de gaslight ob de moon;
We'll tum de old Piano when de banjo's out ob tune.
The Elements of San Joaquin
© Gary Soto
The wind sprays pale dirt into my mouth
The small, almost invisible scars
On my hands.
Microcosmos
© Siegfried Sassoon
I am that fantasy which race has wrought
Of mundane chance-material. I am time
Paeaned by the senses five like bells that chime.
Love Is Master Still
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Since that it may not be,
The thing my soul desires,
And that Love's tenderer fires
Are doomed to loss and Time's sterility,
The Shepheardes Calender: January
© Edmund Spenser
A Shepeheards boye (no better doe him call)
when Winters wastful spight was almost spent,
All in a sunneshine day, as did befall,
Led forth his flock, that had been long ypent.
So faynt they woxe, and feeble in the folde,
That now vnnethes their feete could them vphold.
