Time poems
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The Night-Wind
© Emily Jane Brontë
In summer's mellow midnight,
A cloudless moon shone through
Our open parlour window,
And rose-trees wet with dew.
Three In A Shade.
© Robert Crawford
Here we sit, and blind Desire
Plays his spinet in the shade.
How is it our fancies tire?
Why is it our hearts afraid,
Pixley Folks
© Edgar Albert Guest
SOMETIMES I git to thinkin' o' the days o' youth, an then
There comes a-troopin' through my mind th wimmin folk an' men
Thomas Chatterton
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
WITH Shakspeare's manhood at a boy's wild heart,
Through Hamlet's doubt to Shakspeare near allied,
Seed-Time And Harvest
© John Greenleaf Whittier
As o'er his furrowed fields which lie
Beneath a coldly dropping sky,
Yet chill with winter's melted snow,
The husbandman goes forth to sow,
The Haunted Garden
© Madison Julius Cawein
THERE a tattered marigold
And dead asters manifold,
Showed him where the garden old
Of time bloomed:
The Horse Show
© William Carlos Williams
Constantly near you, I never in my entire
sixty-four years knew you so well as yesterday
Stupid
© Raymond Carver
It's what the kids nowadays call weed. And it drifts
like clouds from his lips. He hopes no one
Acquaintance
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Not we who daily walk the City's street;
Not those who have been cradled in its heart,
Absence
© William Lisle Bowles
There is strange music in the stirring wind,
When lowers the autumnal eve, and all alone
"The sun goes down, on other lands to shine."
© Robert Laurence Binyon
The sun goes down, on other lands to shine.
I long to keep him, but he will not stay.
Only in fancy can I wing my way
To overtake him, to recatch each ray,
Warmer and warmer, till at last is mine,
In fancy, that loved gaze, that light divine.
Stanzas Written In My Pocket Copy Of Thomsons "Castle Of Indolence"
© William Wordsworth
WITHIN our happy Castle there dwelt One
Whom without blame I may not overlook;
For never sun on living creature shone
Who more devout enjoyment with us took:
He fumbles at your spirit
© Emily Dickinson
He fumbles at your spirit
As players at the keys
Before they drop full music on;
He stuns you by degrees,
Job Work
© James Whitcomb Riley
"Write me a rhyme of the present time".
And the poet took his pen
And wrote such lines as the miser minds
Hide in the hearts of men.
The Three Christmas Waits
© William Makepeace Thackeray
"When this black year began,
This Eighteen-forty-eight,
I was a great great man,
And king both vise and great,
And Munseer Guizot by me did show
As Minister of State.
Advice To My Best Brother, Coll: Francis Lovelace.
© Richard Lovelace
Frank, wil't live unhandsomely? trust not too far
Thy self to waving seas: for what thy star,
Calculated by sure event, must be,
Look in the glassy-epithete, and see.
The Shepherds Calendar - November
© John Clare
The landscape sleeps in mist from morn till noon;
And, if the sun looks through, 'tis with a face
Beamless and pale and round, as if the moon,
When done the journey of her nightly race,
Little Girls
© Edgar Albert Guest
He knew that earth would never do, unless a bit of Heaven it had.
Men needed eyes divinely blue to toil by day and still be glad.
A world where only men and boys made merry would in time grow stale,
And so He shared His Heavenly joys that faith in Him should never fail.
He sent us down a thousand charms, He decked our ways with golden curls
And laughing eyes and dimpled arms. He let us have His little girls.
Italy : 13. Coll'Alto
© Samuel Rogers
"In this neglected mirror (the broad frame
Of massy silver serves to testify
That many a noble matron of the house
Has sat before it) once, alas, was seen
