Time poems
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On Seeing The Elgin Marbles For The First Time
© John Keats
My spirit is too weak; mortality
Weighs heavily on me like unwilling sleep,
And each imagined pinnacle and steep
Of godlike hardship tells me I must die
Robin Hood
© John Keats
to a friend No! those days are gone away
And their hours are old and gray,
And their minutes buried all
Under the down-trodden pall
Endymion: Book I
© John Keats
This said, he rose, faint-smiling like a star
Through autumn mists, and took Peona's hand:
They stept into the boat, and launch'd from land.
Ode On Indolence
© John Keats
One morn before me were three figures seen,
I With bowed necks, and joined hands, side-faced;
And one behind the other stepp'd serene,
In placid sandals, and in white robes graced;
The Eve Of St. Agnes
© John Keats
St. Agnes' Eve--Ah, bitter chill it was!
The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold;
The hare limp'd trembling through the frozen grass,
And silent was the flock in woolly fold:
Hyperion
© John Keats
BOOK I Deep in the shady sadness of a vale
Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn,
Far from the fiery noon, and eve's one star,
Sat gray-hair'd Saturn, quiet as a stone,
In Drear-Nighted December
© John Keats
In drear-nighted December,
Too happy, happy tree,
Thy branches ne'er remember
Their green felicity:
Ode On A Grecian Urn
© John Keats
Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness,
Thou foster-child of silence and slow time,
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express
A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:
Ode To A Nightingale
© John Keats
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:
Resolutions
© John Matthew
Resolutions I have made,
Kept, I have none,
Why do I have to make,
Resolutions anymore?
Passing showers
© John Matthew
Yesterday a passing, transient shower,
Slaked my thirst so gently, softly,
Showers in March are unheard
In this arid part of the world.
Time Stands Still over Govandi Station
© John Matthew
A kite flutters,
On a high tension wire
Against a stark blue sky.
Beggar and old mother huddle
On Govandi Railway Station
The dirtiest station in the universe.
Sonnet for Mother
© John Matthew
Decked in blooms,
Swaddled in gold filigreed shrouds,
Smeared with perfumes,
She traveled into the clouds.
Being Me!
© John Matthew
Wild are my ways, wilder than you think
You will find me standing a little left of frame
You will find me a little away from the meeting place
I am that and much more, insignificant me.
Where Giant Mushrooms Grow!
© John Matthew
In Nevada there is a field where giant mushrooms grow
One mile high and two miles wide, they say on the show
Thats where they test how to vaporize people and flesh
By splitting and fusing atoms and start the world afresh.
Transit
© Richard Wilbur
A woman I have never seen before
Steps from the darkness of her town-house door
At just that crux of time when she is made
So beautiful that she or time must fade.
In a Churchyard
© Richard Wilbur
That flower unseen, that gem of purest ray,
Bright thoughts uncut by men:
Strange that you need but speak them, Thomas Gray,
And the mind skips and dives beyond its ken,
Shame
© Richard Wilbur
It is a cramped little state with no foreign policy,
Save to be thought inoffensive. The grammar of the language
Has never been fathomed, owing to the national habit
Of allowing each sentence to trail off in confusion.
A Hole In The Floor
© Richard Wilbur
The carpenter's made a hole
In the parlor floor, and I'm standing
Staring down into it now
At four o'clock in the evening,
As Schliemann stood when his shovel
Knocked on the crowns of Troy.
Tutto è Sciolto
© James Joyce
A birdless heaven, seadusk, one lone star
Piercing the west,
As thou, fond heart, love's time, so faint, so far,
Rememberest.
