Time poems
/ page 69 of 792 /Shui Tiao Ko Tou
© Su Tung-po
Will a moon so bright ever arise again?
Drink a cupful of wine and ask of the sky.
Consalvo
© Giacomo Leopardi
Approaching now the end of his abode
On earth, Consalvo lay; complaining once,
My Thanks,
© John Greenleaf Whittier
'T is said that in the Holy Land
The angels of the place have blessed
The pilgrim's bed of desert sand,
Like Jacob's stone of rest.
A Song in Time of Order. 1852
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
PUSH hard across the sand,
For the salt wind gathers breath;
Shoulder and wrist and hand,
Push hard as the push of death.
Christmas Eve
© Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
Friend, old friend in the Manse by the fireside sitting,
Hour by hour while the grey ash drips from the log;
You with a book on your knee, your wife with her knitting,
Silent both, and between you, silent, the dog.
A Song. For the Centennial Celebration of Harvard College
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
When the Puritans came over
Our hills and swamps to clear,
Of The Nature Of Things: Book V - Part 05 - Origins Of Vegetable And Animal Life
© Lucretius
And now to what remains!- Since I've resolved
By what arrangements all things come to pass
The Song Of Gracia
© George Essex Evans
A touch, a joy, a something there
That for my sake hath never shone;
Too well I deem in my despair
Her fairest dream I may not share,
And she is gone
Moses
© Thomas Parnell
Ile sing to God, Ile Sing ye songs of praise
To God triumphant in his wondrous ways,
To God whose glorys in the Seas excell,
Where the proud horse & prouder rider fell.
The Rook And The Sparrows
© Charles Lamb
A little boy with crumbs of bread
Many a hungry sparrow fed.
Who Shall Rule This American Nation?
© Henry Clay Work
"No, never! no, never!"
The loyal millions say;
And 'tis they who rule this American Nation!
They, boys, they!
Rizpah
© Henry Kendall
SAID one who led the spears of swarthy Gad,
To Jesses mighty son: My Lord, O King,
To Miss D. T. On her giving me a drawing of little street arabs.
© James Russell Lowell
As, cleansed of Tiber's and Oblivion's slime,
Glow Farnesina's vaults with shapes again
To L.T. In Florence
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
You by the Arno shape your marble dream,
Under the cypress and the olive trees,
The Eutawville Lynching
© Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer
In the State of "Old Palmetto," from the town of Eutawville,
Comes a voice of pain and anguish that refuses to be still.
'Tis a voice that cries for vengeance for the wrongs it has received,
Yea, it asks a nation's conscience, When will justice be achieved?
The Lady of the Lake: Canto V. - The Combat
© Sir Walter Scott
I.
Fair as the earliest beam of eastern light,
When first, by the bewildered pilgrim spied,
It smiles upon the dreary brow of night