Time poems
/ page 567 of 792 /Cromwell's Return
© Andrew Marvell
An Horatian Ode upon Cromwell's Return From IrelandThe forward youth that would appear
Must now forsake his muses dear,
Nor in the shadows sing,
His numbers languishing.
A Dialogue Between Thyrsis And Dorinda
© Andrew Marvell
Dorinda
When Death, shall snatch us from these Kids,
And shut up our divided Lids,
Tell me Thyrsis, prethee do,
Whither thou and I must go.
The First Anniversary Of The Government Under O.C.
© Andrew Marvell
Like the vain Curlings of the Watry maze,
Which in smooth streams a sinking Weight does raise;
So Man, declining alwayes, disappears.
In the Weak Circles of increasing Years;
A Dialogue Between the Resolved Soul, And Created Pleasure
© Andrew Marvell
Soul
I sup above, and cannot stay
To bait so long upon the way.
Sordello: Book the Fourth
© Robert Browning
Meantime Ferrara lay in rueful case;
The lady-city, for whose sole embrace
The Picture Of Little T.C. In A Prospect Of Flowers
© Andrew Marvell
See with what simplicity
This Nimph begins her golden daies!
In the green Grass she loves to lie,
And there with her fair Aspect tames
The Nymph Complaining For The Death Of Her Faun
© Andrew Marvell
The wanton Troopers riding by
Have shot my Faun and it will dye.
Ungentle men! They cannot thrive
To kill thee. Thou neer didst alive
A Poem Upon The Death Of O.C.
© Andrew Marvell
That Providence which had so long the care
Of Cromwell's head, and numbred ev'ry hair,
Now in its self (the Glass where all appears)
Had seen the period of his golden Years:
From the Commemoration Ode
© Harriet Monroe
WASHINGTON
WHEN dreaming kings, at odds with swift paced time,
The Old Front Gate
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
W'en daih's chillun in de house,
Dey keep on a-gittin' tall;
Last Instructions to a Painter
© Andrew Marvell
Here, Painter, rest a little, and survey
With what small arts the public game they play.
For so too Rubens, with affairs of state,
His labouring pencil oft would recreate.
Daphnis And Chloe
© Andrew Marvell
Daphnis must from Chloe part:
Now is come the dismal Hour
That must all his Hopes devour,
All his Labour, all his Art.
An Horatian Ode Upon Cromwell's Return from Ireland
© Andrew Marvell
The forward youth that would appear
Must now forsake his Muses dear,
Nor in the shadows sing
His numbers languishing.
The Unfortunate Lover
© Andrew Marvell
Alas, how pleasant are their dayes
With whom the Infant Love yet playes!
Sorted by pairs, they still are seen
By Fountains cool, and Shadows green.
Thoughts in a Garden
© Andrew Marvell
HOW vainly men themselves amaze
To win the palm, the oak, or bays,
And their uncessant labours see
Crown'd from some single herb or tree,
Bermudas
© Andrew Marvell
Where the remote Bermudas ride
In th' Oceans bosome unespy'd,
From a small Boat, that row'd along,
The listning Winds receiv'd this Song.
Hortus
© Andrew Marvell
Quisnam adeo, mortale genus, praecordia versat:
Heu Palmae, Laurique furor, vel simplicis Herbae!
Arbor ut indomitos ornet vix una labores;
Tempora nec foliis praecingat tota maglignis.
Tom May's Death
© Andrew Marvell
As one put drunk into the Packet-boat,
Tom May was hurry'd hence and did not know't.
But was amaz'd on the Elysian side,
And with an Eye uncertain, gazing wide,