Time poems

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Chateau Gaillard

© Robert Laurence Binyon

Shattered tower and desolated keep
Darken; far below the river shines
Under cliffs that round the twilight sweep,
Rock--rough headlands on the sky's confines
Couch asleep.

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October on the Sheep Range

© Arthur Chapman

There ain't no leaves to turn to gold-
There ain't a tree in sight-
In other ways the herder's told
October's come, all right.

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Italy : 39. The Fountain

© Samuel Rogers

It was a well
Of whitest marble, white as from the quarry;
And richly wrought with many a high relief,
Greek sculpture -- in some earlier day perhaps

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'39'

© Henry Lawson

  Then here’s the living Forties!
  The Forties! The Forties!
  Then here’s the living Forties!
  We’re good for ten years more.

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Ode To Maize

© Pablo Neruda

But, poet, let
history rest in its shroud;
praise with your lyre
the grain in its granaries:
sing to the simple maize in the kitchen.

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September, 1918

© Amy Lowell

This afternoon was the colour of water falling through sunlight;

The trees glittered with the tumbling of leaves;

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Of Coarse Fools

© Sebastian Brant

Vile, scolding words do irritate,
Good manners thereby will abate
If sow-bell's rung from morn to late.

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Morituri Salutamus: Poem for the Fiftieth Anniversary of the Class of 1825 in Bowdoin College

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Tempora labuntur, tacitisque senescimus annis,
Et fugiunt freno non remorante dies.
Ovid, Fastorum, Lib. vi.
"O Cæsar, we who are about to die
Salute you!" was the gladiators' cry
In the arena, standing face to face
With death and with the Roman populace.

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Allegro Maestoso

© William Ernest Henley

Spring winds that blow

As over leagues of myrtle-blooms and may;

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The Calling Motherland

© Dora Sigerson Shorter

On the lone height of some untrodden hill

The shadowy mother goes,

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Address To Thought

© Felicia Dorothea Hemans

OH thou! the musing, wakeful pow'r,
That lov'st the silent, midnight hour,
Thy lonely vigils then to keep,
And banish far the angel, sleep,

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If It Should Ever Come

© Edward Dorn

And we are all there together


time will wave as willows do

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Kiama

© Henry Kendall

Towards the hills of Jamberoo

Some few fantastic shadows haste,

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Ehue! Fugaces, Posthume, Labuntur Anni

© Jones Very

Fleeting years are ever bearing
In their silent course away
All that in our pleasures sharing
Lent to life a cheering ray.

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To a Young Poet

© Mahmoud Darwish

Don’t believe our outlines, forget them
and begin from your own words.
As if you are the first to write poetry
or the last poet.

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Wishes

© Dora Sigerson Shorter

I wish we could live as the flowers live,

To breathe and to bloom in the summer and sun;

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Dawn

© Louise Gluck

Years and years — that’s how much time passes. 
All in a dream. But the duck —
no one knows what happened to that.

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To the Right Honourable The Countess Dowager Of Devonshire, On A Piece Of Wiessen's

© Matthew Prior

Wiessen and nature held a long contest

If she created or he painted best;

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I Wasn’t One of the Six Million: And What Is My Life Span? Open Closed Open

© John Wesley

  3
And what is my life span? I’m like a man gone out of Egypt:
the Red Sea parts, I cross on dry land,
two walls of water, on my right hand and on my left.
Pharaoh’s army and his horsemen behind me. Before me the desert,
perhaps the Promised Land, too. That is my life span.

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Illumination

© Robert Laurence Binyon

Is it joy, or is it peace,
Senses' magical release,
That triumphant swells my heart
Where I walk the fields apart?