Time poems
/ page 643 of 792 /Hannah Armstrong
© Edgar Lee Masters
I wrote him a letter asking him for old times' sake
To discharge my sick boy from the army;
But maybe he couldn't read it.
Then I went to town and had James Garber,
The Circus-Day Parade
© James Whitcomb Riley
Oh, the Circus-Day parade! How the bugles played and played!
And how the glossy horses tossed their flossy manes, and neighed,
As the rattle and the rhyme of the tenor-drummer's time
Filled all the hungry hearts of us with melody sublime!
Cooney Potter
© Edgar Lee Masters
I inherited forty acres from my Father
And, by working my wife, my two sons and two daughters
From dawn to dusk, I acquired
A thousand acres. But not content,
Ernest Hyde
© Edgar Lee Masters
My mind was a mirror:
It saw what it saw, it knew what it knew.
In youth my mind was just a mirror
In a rapidly flying car,
The Municipal Gallery Revisited
© William Butler Yeats
AROUND me the images of thirty years:
An ambush; pilgrims at the water-side;
Oh That I Were As In Months Past!
© John Newton
Sweet was the time when first I felt
The Saviour's pard'ning blood
Applied, to cleanse my soul from guilt,
And bring me home to God.
Margaret Fuller Slack
© Edgar Lee Masters
I would have been as great as George Eliot
But for an untoward fate.
For look at the photograph of me made by Penniwit,
Chin resting on hand, and deep-set eyes --
To Edward Noel Long, Esq.
© George Gordon Byron
'Nil ego contulerim jucundo sanus amico.'~Horace.
Dear Long, in this sequester'd scene,
While all around in slumber lie,
The Hill
© Edgar Lee Masters
Where are Elmer, Herman, Bert, Tom, and Charley,
The weak of will, the strong of arm, the clown, the boozer, the fighter?
All, all, are sleeping on the hill.
Memory
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
I nursed it in my bosom while it lived,
I hid it in my heart when it was dead;
In joy I sat alone, even so I grieved
Alone and nothing said.
The Suicides Grave (From The German)
© George Borrow
The evening shadows fall upon the grave
On which I sit; it is no common heap,
Below its turf are laid the bones of one,
Who, sick of life and misery, did quench
The vital spark which in his bosom burnd.
Roger Heston
© Edgar Lee Masters
Oh many times did Ernest Hyde and I
Argue about the freedom of the will.
My favorite metaphor was Prickett's cow
Roped out to grass, and free you know as far
Grand Is The Leisure Of The Earth
© Jean Ingelow
Grand is the leisure of the earth;
She gives her happy myriads birth,
The Rowfant Catalogue
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Friends had he many, neighbours next to none.
Rowfant and Crabbet lay few fields apart.
Each Sunday saw him here, his church drill done,
Duly stroll in to talk of books and art,
The Widow Of Crescentius : Part I.
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
'Midst Tivoli's luxuriant glades,
Bright-foaming falls, and olive shades,
Silence
© Edgar Lee Masters
I have known the silence of the stars and of the sea,
And the silence of the city when it pauses,
And the silence of a man and a maid,
And the silence of the sick
Down Around The River
© James Whitcomb Riley
Noon-time and June-time, down around the river!
Have to furse with 'Lizey Ann--but lawzy! I fergive her!
Griffy the Cooper
© Edgar Lee Masters
The cooper should know about tubs.
But I learned about life as well,
And you who loiter around these graves
Think you know life.
Lucinda Matlock
© Edgar Lee Masters
I went to the dances at Chandlerville,
And played snap-out at Winchester.
One time we changed partners,
Driving home in the midnight of middle June,