Time poems
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Grandpa's Christmas
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
In his great cushioned chair by the fender
An old man sits dreaming to-night,
The Orchard Lands Of Long Ago
© James Whitcomb Riley
The orchard lands of Long Ago!
O drowsy winds, awake, and blow
Stanzas. -- April, 1814
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Away! the moor is dark beneath the moon,
Rapid clouds have drank the last pale beam of even:
Away! the gathering winds will call the darkness soon,
And profoundest midnight shroud the serene lights of heaven.
The Bankers Secret
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
The reader paused,--the Teacups knew his ways,--
He, like the rest, was not averse to praise.
Voices and hands united; every one
Joined in approval: "Number Three, well done!"
Sea-Shore Musings
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
How oft Ive longed to gaze on thee,
Thou proud and mighty deep!
In Memory of Marina Tsvetaeva
© Boris Pasternak
Dismal day, with the weather inclement.
Inconsolably rivulets run
Down the porch in front of the doorway;
Through my wide-open windows they come.
To The Memory Of Father Prout
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
In deep dejection, but with affection,
I often think of those pleasant times,
In the days of Fraser, ere I touched a razor,
How I read and revell'd in thy racy rhymes;
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 3. The Spanish Jew's Second Tale; Scanderbeg
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The battle is fought and won
By King Ladislaus, the Hun,
Discontent
© Confucius
We look for red, and foxes meet;
For black, and crows our vision greet.
The creatures, both of omen bad,
Well suit the state of Wei so sad.
Gul ko Mehboob
© Meer Taqi Meer
My heart, like a mirror,
Introduced me to a verity of people.
(I have a mirror like reflecting heart, everyone sees his own reflection in my heart)
The Baby's Vengeance
© William Schwenck Gilbert
Weary at heart and extremely ill
Was PALEY VOLLAIRE of Bromptonville,
In a dirty lodging, with fever down,
Close to the Polygon, Somers Town.
St.Gregory's Guest
© John Greenleaf Whittier
A TALE for Roman guides to tell
To careless, sight-worn travellers still,
Who pause beside the narrow cell
Of Gregory on the Caelian Hill.
Deliberation.
© Robert Crawford
Within the mist of argument men lose
Ofttimes the thread of reason, and the fume
Of thought, until its urgency subsides,
So cloudeth counsel, that on a debate
Time should avail for meditation ere
The matter comes to judgment.
To S. C.
© John Kenyon
The chords thy ready fingers used to move
At fond request of dear domestic love,
Ma And The Ouija Board
© Edgar Albert Guest
It's just a shiny piece of wood, with letters printed here an' there,
An' has a little table which you put your fingers on with care,
An' then you sit an' whisper low some question that you want to know.
Then by an' by the spirit comes an' makes the little table go,
An' Ma, she starts to giggle then an' Pa just grumbles out, "Oh, Lord!
I wish you hadn't bought this thing. We didn't need a ouija board."
Roman Meditation
© Arthur Symons
Learn wisdom, this is wisdom, cry
The teachers; and the teachers die.
The war Widow
© Alfred Noyes
Black-veiled, black-gowned, she rides in bus and train,
With eyes that fill too listlessly for tears.
Her waxen hands clasp and unclasp again.
_Good News_, they cry. She neither sees nor hears.
