Time poems
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White CanoeA Legend Of Niagara Falls
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
A CANTATA.
MINAHITA, Indian Maiden.
OREIKA, Her Friend.
TOLONGA, Minahitas Father.
DOLBREKA, Indian Chief.
Sonnet 15: "When I consider everything that grows..."
© William Shakespeare
When I consider everything that grows
Holds in perfection but a little moment,
Antwerp To Ghent
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
We are upon the Scheldt. We know we move
Because there is a floating at our eyes
Soliloquy
© Robinson Jeffers
August and laurelled have been content to speak for an age,
and the ages that follow
Cosmos
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
THE tiny thing of painted gauze that flutters in the sun
And sinks upon the breast of night with all its living done;
The Grandmother
© Alfred Tennyson
And Willy, my eldest-born, is gone, you say, little Anne?
Ruddy and white, and strong on his legs, he looks like a man.
And Willy's wife has written: she never was over-wise,
Never the wife for Willy: he would n't take my advice.
Time's Garden
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
YEARS are the seedlings which we careless sow
In Time's bare garden. Dead they seem to be--
September
© John Payne
HOW is the world of Summer's splendours shorn!
The rose has had its day; from weald and wold
From 'The Hills Of Life'
© Albert Durrant Watson
ERE yet the dawn
Pushed rosy fingers up the arch of day
And smiled its promise to the voiceless prime,
Love sat and patterns wove at life's great loom.
To Emma
© George Gordon Byron
Since now the hour is come at last,
When you must quit your anxious lover;
Since now our dream of bliss is past,
One pang, my girl, and all is over.
The Shadows On The Wall
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
WHAT mournful influence chills my soul to-night?
I watch the expiring flames that fade and fall,
From which outleap vague shafts of arrowy light,
Pursued by spectral shadows on the wall.
A Congratulatory Poem
© Aphra Behn
All that is Wit, all that is Eloquence.
The Births of finest Thought and Noblest Sense,
Easie and Natural from your Language break,
To Her Grace The Dutchess Of Manchester, And Lady Diana Spencer
© Mary Barber
Madam, I hear, and hear with Sorrow,
That we're to lose Your Grace To--morrow;
Nor you alone, but Lady Di.
Where, thus deserted, shall I fly?
An Autumn Treasure-Trove
© Eugene Field
'Tis the time of the year's sundown, and flame
Hangs on the maple bough;
And June is the faded flower of a name;
The thin hedge hides not a singer now.
Yet rich am I; for my treasures be
The gold afloat in my willow-tree.
Mother Earth
© Henry Van Dyke
Mother of all the high-strung poets and singers departed,
Mother of all the grass that weaves over their graves the glory of the field,
Oft Do I Dream
© Paul Verlaine
Oft do I dream this strange and penetrating dream:
An unknown woman, whom I love, who loves me well,
Who does not every time quite change, nor yet quite dwell
The same,-and loves me well, and knows me as I am.
On Seeing A Pupil Of Kung-sun Dance The Chien-ch`i
© Du Fu
Having found out about the pupil's antecedents, I now realized that what I had been watching was a faithful
reproduction of the great dancer's interpretation. The train of reflections set off by this discovery so moved me
that I felt inspired to compose a ballad on the chien-ch`i.
The Needle and Thread
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
The Needle and Thread one day were wed,
The Thimble acted as priest,
A paper of Pins, and the Scissors twins
Were among the guests at the feast.
Peripeteia
© Anthony Evan Hecht
Of course, the familiar rustling of programs,
My hair mussed from behind by a grand gesture
