Time poems

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White Nassau

© Bliss William Carman

 She's ringed with surf and coral, she's crowned with sun and palm;
 She has the old-world leisure, the regal tropic calm;
 The trade winds fan her forehead; in everlasting June
 She reigns from deep verandas above her blue lagoon.

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Lone Founts

© Herman Melville

Though fast youth's glorious fable flies,

View not the world with worldling's eyes;

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The Melancholy Year Is Dead with Rain

© Trumbull Stickney

The melancholy year is dead with rain.

Drop after drop on every branch pursues.

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Old Spanish Song

© Eugene Field

I'm thinking of the wooing

  That won my maiden heart

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Song of the Guitar.

© Bai Juyi

In the tenth year of Yuanhe I was banished and demoted to be assistant official in Jiujiang. In the summer of the next year I was seeing a friend leave Penpu and heard in the midnight from a neighbouring boat a guitar played in the manner of the capital. Upon inquiry, I found that the player had formerly been a dancing-girl there and in her maturity had been married to a merchant. I invited her to my boat to have her play for us. She told me her story, heyday and then unhappiness. Since my departure from the capital I had not felt sad; but that night, after I left her, I began to realize my banishment. And I wrote this long poem - six hundred and twelve characters.

I was bidding a guest farewell, at night on the Xunyang River,

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Dedication

© Alfred Tennyson

Dedication
These to His Memory-since he held them dear,
Perchance as finding there unconsciously
Some image of himself-I dedicate,
I dedicate, I consecrate with tears-
These Idylls.

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The Fate of the Explorers (A Fragment)

© Henry Kendall

Through that night he uttered little, rambling were the words he spoke:
And he turned and died in silence, when the tardy morning broke.
Many memories come together whilst in sight of death we dwell,
Much of sweet and sad reflection through the weary mind must well.
As those long hours glided past him, till the east with light was fraught,
Who may know the mournful secret — who can tell us what he thought?

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The Ruin And Its Flowers

© Felicia Dorothea Hemans

  Breathe, fragrance! breathe, enrich the air,
  Tho' wasted on its wing unknown!
  Blow, flow'rets! blow, tho' vainly fair,
  Neglected and alone!

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Afterwards.

© Arthur Henry Adams

NOW that our pathways sever here,
And mine slopes down across the night,
Whence I shall see you burning clear
A beacon on the mountain-height —

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Progress

© George Meredith

In Progress you have little faith, say you:

Men will maintain dear interests, wreak base hates,

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As Men Have Loved Their Lovers In Times Past

© Edna St. Vincent Millay

As men have loved their lovers in times past

And sung their wit, their virtue and their grace,

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God

© Walt Whitman


Lover Divine, and Perfect Comrade!
Waiting, content, invisible yet, but certain,
Be thou my God.

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The Song of Arda: (From “Annatanam”.)

© Henry Kendall

LOW as a lute, my love, beneath the call

Of storm, I hear a melancholy wind;

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The Dance To Death. Act V

© Emma Lazarus


LIEBHAID.
The air hangs sultry as in mid-July.
Look forth, Claire; moves not some big thundercloud
Athwart the sky?  My heart is sick.

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Reflections Of King Hezekiah, In His Sickness

© Hannah More

"Set thine house in order, for thou shalt die." - Isaiah xxxviii.

What! and no more? - Is this, my soul, said I,

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Night

© Boris Pasternak

The night proceeds and dwindling
Prepares the day's rebirth.
An airman is ascending
Above the sleeping earth.

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Harvests

© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon

Other harvests there are than those that lie
Glowing and ripe ’neath an autumn sky,
  Awaiting the sickle keen,
Harvests more precious than golden grain,
Waving o’er hillside, valley or plain,
  Than fruits ’mid their leafy screen.

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Daylight Savings Time

© Phyllis McGinley

In spring when maple buds are red,
We turn the clock an hour ahead;
Which means, each April that arrives,
We lose an hour out of our lives.