Time poems

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O Moon

© Mathilde Blind

O moon, large golden summer moon,
 Hanging between the linden trees,
 Which in the intermittent breeze
Beat with the rhythmic pulse of June!

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Twelve O'Clock - Fairy time

© William Shakespeare

Through the house give glimmering light
By the dead and drowsy fire;
Every elf and fairy sprite
hop as light as bird from brier.

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Shakuntala Act VII (Final Act)

© Kalidasa


ACT VII
King Dushyant with Matali in the chariot of Indra (king of gods in heaven and also god of thunder), supposed to be above the clouds.
King Dushyant: I am sensible, O Matali, that, for having executed the commission which Indra gave me, I deserved not such a profusion of honours.

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Eight Years Old

© Algernon Charles Swinburne

SUN, whom the faltering snow-cloud fears,

  Rise, let the time of year be May,

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The Mystic Selvagee

© William Schwenck Gilbert

Perhaps already you may know

SIR BLENNERHASSET PORTICO?

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Being Brave At Night

© Edgar Albert Guest

The other night 'bout two o'clock, or maybe it was three,
An elephant with shining tusks came chasing after me.
His trunk was wavin' in the air an'  spoutin' jets of steam
An' he was out to eat me up, but still I didn't scream
Or let him see that I was scared - a better thought I had,
I just escaped from where I was and crawled in bed with Dad.

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Mutability

© William Wordsworth

.  From low to high doth dissolution climb,

 And sink from high to low, along a scale

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Ode:Inscribed to W.H. Channing

© Ralph Waldo Emerson

Though loath to grieve
The evil time's sole patriot,
I cannot leave
My honeyed thought
For the priest's cant,
Or statesman's rant.

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A Prospective Visit

© James Whitcomb Riley

While _any_ day was notable and dear

That gave the children Noey, history here

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Jim

© James Whitcomb Riley

He was jes a plain ever'-day, all-round kind of a jour.,

Consumpted-Iookin'-- but la!

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The host, he says that all is well

© Howard Nemerov

He asked himself, poor moron, because he had
Nobody else to ask. The others went right on
Talking about form, talking about myth
And the (so help us) need for a modern idiom;
The verseballs among them kept counting syllables.

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The Subterranean River, At Cong.

© Richard Monckton Milnes

A pleasant mean of joy and wonder fills
The trave'ller's mind, beside this secret stream,
That flows from lake to lake beneath the hills,
And penetrates their slumber like a dream.

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Grandmother's Story Of Bunker Hill Battle (as she saw it from the Belfry)

© Oliver Wendell Holmes

'Tis like stirring living embers when, at eighty, one remembers
All the achings and the quakings of "the times that tried men's souls";
When I talk of Whig and Tory, when I tell the Rebel story,
To you the words are ashes, but to me they're burning coals.

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North Beach

© Francis Bret Harte

(AFTER SPENSER)

Lo! where the castle of bold Pfeiffer throws

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The Nile

© Sir Henry Newbolt

Out of the unknown South,

Through the dark lands of drouth,

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Character Of Charles Brown

© John Keats

I.
  He is to weet a melancholy carle:
  Thin in the waist, with bushy head of hair
  As hath the seeded thistle when in parle

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An Epistle To A Friend

© Samuel Rogers

When, with a Reaumur's skill, thy curious mind
Has class'd the insect-tribes of human-kind,
Each with its busy hum, or gilded wing,
Its subtle, web-work, or its venom'd sting;

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The Maid-Martyr

© Jean Ingelow

Her face, O! it was wonderful to me,
There was not in it what I look'd for-no,
I never saw a maid go to her death,
How should I dream that face and the dumb soul?

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The Lost Purse

© Edgar Albert Guest

I remember the excitement and the terrible alarm
That worried everybody when William broke his arm;
An' how frantic Pa and Ma got only jes' the other day
When they couldn't find the baby coz he'd up an' walked away;
But I'm sure there's no excitement that our house has ever shook
Like the times Ma can't remember where she's put her pocketbook.

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Making Feet And Hands

© Benjamin Péret

Eye standing up eye lying down eye sitting

Why wander about between two hedges made of stair-rails while the ladders become soft