Time poems
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To Lydia Maria Child
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The sweet spring day is glad with music,
But through it sounds a sadder strain;
The worthiest of our narrowing circle
Sings Loring's dirges o'er again.
Bud Discusses Cleanliness
© Edgar Albert Guest
First thing in the morning, last I hear at night,
Get it when I come from school: "My, you look a sight!
Go upstairs this minute, an' roll your sleeves up high
An' give your hands a scrubbing and wipe 'em till they're dry!
Now don't stand there and argue, and never mind your tears!
And this time please remember to wash your neck and ears."
Mother's Glasses
© Edgar Albert Guest
I've told about the times that Ma can't find her pocketbook,
And how we have to hustle round for it to help her look,
But there's another care we know that often comes our way,
I guess it happens easily a dozen times a day.
It starts when first the postman through the door a letter passes,
And Ma says: "Goodness gracious me! Wherever are my glasses?"
A Masque Presented At Ludlow Castle, 1634. (Comus)
© John Milton
The Scene changes to a stately palace, set out with all manner of
deliciousness: soft music, tables spread with all dainties. Comus
appears with his rabble, and the LADY set in an enchanted chair;
to
whom he offers his glass; which she puts by, and goes about to
rise.
Inside And Outside
© Allen Tate
For look you how her body stiffly lies
Just as she left it, unprepared to stay,
The posture waiting on the sleeping eyes,
While the body's life, deep as a covered well,
Instinctive as the wind, busy as May,
Burns out a secret passageway to hell.
Lemmebesomethin
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Now if I can't be your hotdog lemme be your little weiner
Baby if I can't be your regular man lemme be your in betweener
And if I can't be your human torch lemme be your submariner
Well hey baby don't you leave me this way lemme be somethin'
The God And The Bayadere - An Indian Legend
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Men as man he'd fain perceive.
And when he the town as a trav'ller hath seen,
Observing the mighty, regarding the mean,
He quits it, to go on his journey, at eve.
The Ghost's Leavetaking
© Sylvia Plath
Enter the chilly no-man's land of about
Five o'clock in the morning, the no-color void
Where the waking head rubbishes out the draggled lot
Of sulfurous dreamscapes and obscure lunar conundrums
Which seemed, when dreamed, to mean so profoundly much,
On His Ladies Waking
© Pierre de Ronsard
My lady woke upon a morning fair,
What time Apollos chariot takes the skies,
Becoming A Dad
© Edgar Albert Guest
Old women say that men don't know
The pain through which all mothers go,
A Letter From A Girl To Her Own Old Age
© Alice Meynell
Listen, and when thy hand this paper presses,
O time-worn woman, think of her who blesses
What thy thin fingers touch, with her caresses.
The Spanish Chapel
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
I made a mountain-brook my guide
Thro' a wild Spanish glen,
And wandered, on its grassy side,
Far from the homes of men.
For Those Who Are As Right As Any
© Stephen Vincent Benet
"Spirit, they charge you that the time is ill.
The great wall sinks in the slime!"
"I am a spirit, still.
I do not 'walk 'with the time"
Autumn Winds
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Oh! Autumn winds, what means this plaintive wailing
Around the quiet homestead where we dwell?
The Moat
© Mathilde Blind
The very sunlight hushed within the close,
Sleeps indolently by the Yew's slow shade;
Still as a relic some old Master made
The jewelled peacock's rich enamel glows;
And on yon mossy wall that youthful rose
Blooms like a rose that never means to fade.
Sonnet: England in 1819
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
An old, mad, blind, despised, and dying king,--
Princes, the dregs of their dull race, who flow
Mogg Megone - Part I.
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Who stands on that cliff, like a figure of stone,
Unmoving and tall in the light of the sky,
