Time poems
/ page 60 of 792 /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.
Lone Founts
© Herman Melville
Though fast youth's glorious fable flies,
View not the world with worldling's eyes;
The Melancholy Year Is Dead with Rain
© Trumbull Stickney
The melancholy year is dead with rain.
Drop after drop on every branch pursues.
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,
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.
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?
The 5th Satire Of Book I. Of Horace : A Humorous Description Of The Author's Journey From Rome To Br
© William Cowper
'Twas a long journey lay before us,
When I and honest Heliodorus,
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!
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
Progress
© George Meredith
In Progress you have little faith, say you:
Men will maintain dear interests, wreak base hates,
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,
God
© Walt Whitman
Lover Divine, and Perfect Comrade!
Waiting, content, invisible yet, but certain,
Be thou my God.
The Song of Arda: (From Annatanam.)
© Henry Kendall
LOW as a lute, my love, beneath the call
Of storm, I hear a melancholy wind;
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.
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,
Night
© Boris Pasternak
The night proceeds and dwindling
Prepares the day's rebirth.
An airman is ascending
Above the sleeping earth.
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 oer hillside, valley or plain,
Than fruits mid their leafy screen.
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.