Time poems

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What the End Is For

© Jorie Graham

where the heard foams up into the noise of listening,
 where the listening arrives without being extinguished. 
The huge hum soaks up into the dusk.
 The minutes spring open. Six is too many.
From where we watch,
 from where even watching is an anachronism,

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Lorenzo De Lardy

© William Schwenck Gilbert

DALILAH DE DARDY adored
The very correctest of cards,
LORENZO DE LARDY, a lord -
He was one of Her Majesty's Guards.

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Upon Time and Eternity

© John Bunyan

LXXII. Upon Time and Eternity.
Eternity is like unto a Ring.
Time, like to Measure, doth it self extend;
Measure commences, is a finite thing.
The Ring has no beginning, middle, end.

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The Feast of Stephen

© Anthony Evan Hecht

I

The coltish horseplay of the locker room,

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A Summer Recollection

© Sarah Flower Adams

Night comes!—She seeks her rest.
Peace, fold her to thy breast!
And loveliest dreams unto her sleep be given:
The blessing she has brought
Into her soul be wrought!
On Earth there is no purer, brighter Heaven!

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from The Bridge: Atlantis

© Hart Crane

Through the bound cable strands, the arching path 

Upward, veering with light, the flight of strings,—

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The Alcalde’s Daughter

© Madison Julius Cawein

The times they had kissed and parted
  That night were over a score;
  Each time that the cavalier started,
  Each time she would swear him o'er,

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Ormuzd And Ahriman. Part II

© Christopher Pearse Cranch

Fear not, for ye shall live if ye receive
The life divine, obedient to the law
Of truth and good. So shall there be no frown
Upon his face who wills the good of all.

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The Negative

© Wole Soyinka

A man hauling coal in the street is stilled forever.

Inside a temple, instead of light

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from “Poems for Moscow”

© Marina Tsvetaeva

From my hands—take this city not made by hands,

my strange, my beautiful brother.

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A Psalm of Life: What the Heart of the Young Man Said to the Psalmist

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

TELL me not, in mournful numbers,
  Life is but an empty dream!—
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
  And things are not what they seem.

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The Net Of Memory

© Govinda Krishna Chettur

I cast the Net of Memory,
Man's torment and delight,
Over the level Sands of Youth
That lay serenely bright,
Their tranquil gold at times submerged
In the Spring Tides of Love's Delight.

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Confiteor

© Adam Lindsay Gordon

The shore-boat lies in the morning light,

By the good ship ready for sailing;

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The Real and True and Sure

© Robert Browning

Marriage on earth seems such a counterfeit,


Mere imitation of the inimitable:

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Eclogue 5: Menalcas Mopsus

© Publius Vergilius Maro

MENALCAS
Why, Mopsus, being both together met,
You skilled to breathe upon the slender reeds,
I to sing ditties, do we not sit down
Here where the elm-trees and the hazels blend?

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A Room in the Past

© Ted Kooser

It’s a kitchen. Its curtains fill

with a morning light so bright 

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Delia XLIX

© Samuel Daniel

Care-charmer Sleep, son of the sable Night,


Brother to Death, in silent darkness born.

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Murray Dreaming

© Stephen Edgar

It’s not the sharks

Sliding mere inches from his upturned face

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American Sketches

© Donald Justice

CROSSING KANSAS BY TRAIN


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The Intellectual

© Ishmael Reed

What should the wars do with these jigging fools?
The man behind the book may not be man,
His own man or the book’s or yet the time’s,
But still be whole, deciding what he can
In praise of politics or German rimes;