Time poems
/ page 61 of 792 /The Dirge
© Henry King
VVhat is th' Existence of Mans life?
But open war, or slumber'd strife.
Where sickness to his sense presents
The combat of the Elements:
Hounds In London
© William Henry Ogilvie
If they find you a fox in Mayfair, will you show them
a right pack running,
With scorn of a Hyde Park holloa or a hat held up
in the Strand ?
The November Pansy
© Duncan Campbell Scott
This is not June,--by Autumn's stratagem
Thou hast been ambushed in the chilly air;
The Menu
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
I beg you come to-night and dine.
A welcome waits you, and sound wine-
Wood-Words
© Madison Julius Cawein
The spirits of the forest,
That to the winds give voice--
I lie the livelong April day
And wonder what it is they say
That makes the leaves rejoice.
'Vulgarised'
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
All round they murmur, 'O profane,
Keep thy heart's secret hid as gold';
But I, by God, would sooner be
Some knight in shattering wars of old,
Faith And Despondency
© Emily Jane Brontë
"The winter wind is loud and wild,
Come close to me, my darling child;
Forsake thy books, and mateless play;
And, while the night is gathering gray,
We'll talk its pensive hours away;-
Lines Composed a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey
© William Wordsworth
Five years have past; five summers, with the length
Of five long winters! and again I hear
Aurora Leigh: Book Fourth
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
She, at that,
Looked blindly in his face, as when one looks
Through driving autumn-rains to find the sky.
He went on speaking.
The Decision Of Fortune
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
Fortune well-Pictur'd on a rolling Globe,
With waving Locks, and thin transparent Robe,
The Ghost at the Second Bridge
© Henry Lawson
You'd call the man a senseless fool,
A blockhead or an ass,
The Pierrot Of The Minute
© Ernest Christopher Dowson
_A glade in the Parc due Petit Trianon. In the centre a Doric temple with
steps coming down the stage. On the left a little Cupid on a pedestal.
Twilight._
Old Dwarf Heart
© Anne Sexton
True. All too true. I have never been at home in
life. All my decay has taken place upon a child.
Henderson the Rain King, by Saul Bellow
Eclogue the Fourth Agib
© William Taylor Collins
In vain Circassia boasts her spicy groves,
For ever famed for pure and happy loves;
In vain she boasts her fairest of the fair,
Their eyes' blue languish and their golden hair!
Those eyes in tears their fruitless grief must send;
Those hairs the Tartar's cruel hand shall rend.
This Life.
© Robert Crawford
This life that glides away
As in a night and day
This that is shade and shine from Night brought forth
To Night returning on a cloudy wing,
The Ballad of the Elder Son
© Henry Lawson
A son of elder sons I am,
Whose boyhood days were cramped and scant,
The Maid of Keinton Mandeville (A Tribute To Sir H. Bishop)
© Thomas Hardy
I hear that maiden still
Of Keinton Mandeville
Wollongong
© Henry Kendall
Let me talk of years evanished, let me harp upon the time
When we trod these sands together, in our boyhood's golden prime;