Time poems
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The Flitting
© John Clare
I've left my own old home of homes,
Green fields and every pleasant place;
The Foray Of Con ODonnell. A.D. 1495
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
The evening shadows sweetly fall
Along the hills of Donegal,
The Golden Wedding Of Longwood
© John Greenleaf Whittier
With fifty years between you and your well-kept wedding vow,
The Golden Age, old friends of mine, is not a fable now.
Mother And Son
© Allen Tate
The falcon mother cannot will her hand
Up to the bed, nor break the manacle
His exile sets upon her harsh command
That he should say the time is beautiful-
Transfigured by her own possessing light:
The sick man craves the impalpable night.
The Elder's Rebuke
© Emily Jane Brontë
"Listen! When your hair, like mine,
Takes a tint of silver gray;
When your eyes, with dimmer shine,
Watch life's bubbles float away:
Retaliation: A Poem
© Oliver Goldsmith
What pity, alas! that so lib'ral a mind
Should so long be to news-paper essays confin'd;
Who perhaps to the summit of science could soar,
Yet content 'if the table he set on a roar';
Whose talents to fill any station were fit,
Yet happy if Woodfall confess'd him a wit.
Choices
© Laura Sewell
i prefer smooth peanut butter
to crunchy
mind you
crunchy is all right
but i prefer smooth.
For Ever
© Henry Kendall
OUT of the body for ever,
Wearily sobbing, Oh, whither?
A Soul that hath wasted its chances
Floats on the limitless ether.
Villon
© Basil Bunting
He whom we anatomized
whose words we gathered as pleasant flowers
and thought on his wit and how neatly he described things
speaks
to us, hatching marrow,
broody all night over the bones of a deadman.
Italy : 14. Venice
© Samuel Rogers
There is a glorious City in the Sea.
The Sea is in the broad, the narrow streets,
Ebbing and flowing; and the salt sea-weed
Clings to the marble of her palaces.
My Love
© James Russell Lowell
Not as all other women are
Is she that to my soul is dear;
Her glorious fancies come from far,
Beneath the silver evening-star,
And yet her heart is ever near.
The Defenders
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Leave me my dreams, and I shall not repine;
Youth's eager hours, love's restless holiday.
The Bumboat Woman's Story
© William Schwenck Gilbert
I'm old, my dears, and shrivelled with age, and work, and grief,
My eyes are gone, and my teeth have been drawn by Time, the Thief!
For terrible sights I've seen, and dangers great I've run -
I'm nearly seventy now, and my work is almost done!
The Day Of The Daughter Of Hades
© George Meredith
He tells it, who knew the law
Upon mortals: he stood alive
Declaring that this he saw:
He could see, and survive.
Peek-A-Boo
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
When it hides its pink little face in its hands,
And crows, and shows that it understands
A Poem Dedicated To The Memory Of The Late Learned And Eminent Mr. William Law, Professor Of Philoso
© Robert Blair
In silence to suppress my griefs I've tried,
And kept within its banks the swelling tide!
But all in vain: unbidden numbers flow;
Spite of myself my sorrows vocal grow.
Sonnet To--
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
FAIR Muse, beloved of all, thou art no high
Imperious goddess of the mount or main,
But a sweet maiden of the pastoral plain,
To whom the hum of bees, the west wind's sigh,
