Time poems
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Eleventh Sunday After Trinity
© John Keble
Is this a time to plant and build,
Add house to house, and field to field,
When round our walls the battle lowers,
When mines are hid beneath our towers,
And watchful foes are stealing round
To search and spoil the holy ground?
At A Birthday Festival
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
WE will not speak of years to-night,--
For what have years to bring
But larger floods of love and light,
And sweeter songs to sing?
Picture Books
© Edgar Albert Guest
I HOLD the finest picture-books
Are woods an' fields an' runnin' brooks;
Rokeby: Canto III.
© Sir Walter Scott
CHORUS.
"O, Brignall banks are fresh and fair,
And Greta woods are green;
I'd rather rove with Edmund there,
Than reign our English queen."
The Heroic Enthusiasts - Part The First =First Dialogue.=
© Giordano Bruno
TANS. The enthusiasms most suitable to be first brought forward and
considered are those that I now place before you in the order that seems
to me most fitting.
The Eumenides
© Edith Wharton
Think you we slept within the Delphic bower,
What time our victim sought Apollos grace?
A Last Appeal
© Edith Nesbit
KNOWING our needs, hardly knowing our powers,
Hear how we cry to you, brothers of ours!--
The Mysterious Naked Man
© Alden Nowlan
A mysterious naked man has been reported
on Cranston Avenue. The police are performing
Easter at Cactus Center
© Arthur Chapman
You kin talk about your racin' with your horses neck and neck--
We have had one here in Cactus that's the high card in the deck.
The Drovers
© John Greenleaf Whittier
THROUGH heat and cold, and shower and sun,
Still onward cheerly driving!
There's life alone in duty done,
And rest alone in striving.
The Tree Is Here, Still, In Pure Stone
© Pablo Neruda
The tree is here, still, in pure stone,
in deep evidence, in solid beauty,
layered, through a hundred million years.
Agate, cornelian, gemstone
The Ballad of the Cars
© Rudyard Kipling
"Now this is the price of a stirrup-cup,"
The kneeling doctor said.
And syne he bade them take him up,
For he saw that the man was dead.
The Princes' Quest - Part the Seventh
© William Watson
But Sleep, who makes a mist about the sense,
Doth ope the eyelids of the soul, and thence
Evensong
© Mathilde Blind
What incommunicable presence clings
To this grey church and willowy twilight stream?
Am I the dupe of some delusive dream?
Or, like faint fluid phosphorent rings
On refluent seas, doth Shakespeare's spirit gleam
Pervasive round these old familiar things?
The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 9
© Publius Vergilius Maro
WHILE these affairs in distant places passd,
The various Iris Juno sends with haste,
The Seasons
© James Weldon Johnson
W'en de leaves begin to fall,
An' de fros' is on de ground,
An' de 'simmons is a-ripenin' on de tree;
W'en I heah de dinner call,
An' de chillen gadder 'round,
'Tis den de 'possum is de meat fu' me.
To Mrs. Newans
© Mary Barber
You say 'tis hard to copy well,
Where Nature does herself excel.
Allow'd -- yet still let me advise:
Near as you can, to Nature rise;
