Time poems
/ page 477 of 792 /Sheoaks That Sigh When The Wind Is Still
© Henry Lawson
Why are the sheoaks forever sighing?
(Sheoaks that sigh when the wind is still)
Why are the dead hopes forever dying?
(Dead hopes that died and are with us still.)
As you make it and what you will.
Retirement
© Henry Timrod
My gentle friend! I hold no creed so false
As that which dares to teach that we are born
Sonnet XLV: Care-charmer Sleep, son of the sable Night
© Samuel Daniel
XLV
Care-charmer Sleep, son of the sable Night,
An Elegie on Henry, fourth Erle of Northumberlande
© John Skelton
The noblenes of the north, this valiant lord and knight,
As man that was innocent of trechery or traine,
Pressed forth boldly to withstand the myght,
And, lyke marciall Hector, he faught them agayne,
Trustyng in noble men that were with him there;
Bot al they fled from hym for falshode or fere.
Ode To The Austrian Socialists
© Stephen Vincent Benet
Let us remember Karl Marx Hof, Goethe Hof,
The one called Matteoti and all the rest.
They were little cities built by people for people.
They were shelled by six-inch guns.
It is strange to go
Fragmentary Scenes From The Road To Avernus
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
Scene I
"Discontent"
LAURENCE RABY.
Last Words
© Emily Jane Brontë
I knew not 'twas so dire a crime
To say the word, "Adieu;"
But this shall be the only time
My lips or heart shall sue.
Elegy II
© Henry James Pye
Now the brown woods their leafy load resign
And rage the tempests with resistless force?
The Lass in the Female Factory
© Anonymous
She got 'Death Recorded' in Newry town,
For stealing her mistress' watch and gown;
Her little boy Paddy can tell you the tale,
Her father was turnkey at Newry jail.
For Him I Sing
© Walt Whitman
FOR him I sing,
I raise the Present on the Past,
(As some perennial tree, out of its roots, the present on the past
With time and space I him dilate-and fuse the immortal laws,
To make himself, by them, the law unto himself.
Sonnet II.
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
PARTED by time and space for many a year,
Yet ever longing, hoping for a day
When, heart to heart, the happy weeks shall stay
Their flight for us, and all our sky be clear
Foreword to Weeds By The Wall
© Madison Julius Cawein
_In the first rare spring of song,
In my heart's young hours,
In my youth 't was thus I sang,
Choosing 'mid the flowers:--_
To Dr. Moore,
© Helen Maria Williams
IN ANSWER TO A POETICAL EPISTLE WRITTEN TO
ME BY HIM IN WALES, SEPTEMBER 1791.
If I To You But Sorry Bring
© Alfred Austin
If I to you but sorrow bring,
But aching hours and brackish tears,
The Age Of Ink
© Edgar Albert Guest
Swiftly the changes come. Each day
Sees some lost beauty blown away
The Decree Of Athena
© Aeschylus
Hear ye my statute, men of Attica--
Ye who of bloodshed judge this primal cause;
Metamorphoses: Book The Thirteenth
© Ovid
The End of the Thirteenth Book.
Translated into English verse under the direction of
Sir Samuel Garth by John Dryden, Alexander Pope, Joseph Addison,
William Congreve and other eminent hands