Time poems
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New Love, New Life
© Amy Levy
She, who so long has lain
Stone-stiff with folded wings,
Within my heart again
The brown bird wakes and sings.
London Poets
© Amy Levy
The sorrow of their souls to them did seem
As real as mine to me, as permanent.
To-day, it is the shadow of a dream,
The half-forgotten breath of breezes spent.
So shall another soothe his woe supreme--
"No more he comes, who this way came and went."
Moreton Bay
© Anonymous
One Sunday morning, as I went walking,
By Brisbane waters I chanced to stray.
Christopher Found
© Amy Levy
So long have all the days been meagre,
With empty platter, empty cup,
No meats nor sweets to do me pleasure,
That if I crave--is it over-eager,
The deepest draught, the fullest measure,
The beaker to the brim poured up?
I've Been Working So Hard
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
I've been working so hard you just wouldn't believe,
And I'm tired!
There's so little time and so much to achieve,
And I'm tired!
To The Cuckoo
© William Wordsworth
O BLITHE New-comer! I have heard,
I hear thee and rejoice.
O Cuckoo! Shall I call thee Bird,
Or but a wandering Voice?
A Reminiscence
© Amy Levy
It is so long gone by, and yet
How clearly now I see it all!
The glimmer of your cigarette,
The little chamber, narrow and tall.
A Minor Poet
© Amy Levy
"What should such fellows as I do,
Crawling between earth and heaven?"
Here is the phial; here I turn the key
Sharp in the lock. Click!--there's no doubt it turned.
Valedictory Address To The D--n
© James Clerk Maxwell
John Alexander Frere, John,
When we were first acquent,
A June-Tide Echo
© Amy Levy
In the long, sad time, when the sky was grey,
And the keen blast blew through the city drear,
When delight had fled from the night and the day,
My chill heart whispered, " June will be here!
The Needless Alarm. A Tale
© William Cowper
Moral
Beware of desperate steps. The darkest day,
Live till to-morrow, will have passd away.
To Memory
© Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
Strange Power, I know not what thou art,
Murderer or mistress of my heart.
I know I'd rather meet the blow
Of my most unrelenting foe
Than live---as now I live---to be
Slain twenty times a day by thee.
The Oak
© James Russell Lowell
What gnarled stretch, what depth of shade, is his!
There needs no crown to mark the forest's king;
Death and the Lady
© Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
TURN in, my lord, she said ;
As it were the Father of Sin
I have hated the Father of the Dead,
The slayer of my kin ;
By the Father of the Living led,
Turn in, my lord, turn in.
