Time poems
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Damages, Two Hundred Pounds
© William Makepeace Thackeray
Special Jurymen of England! who admire your country's laws,
And proclaim a British Jury worthy of the realm's applause;
Gayly compliment each other at the issue of a cause
Which was tried at Guildford 'sizes, this day week as ever was.
A Last Confession
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Our Lombard country-girls along the coast
Wear daggers in their garters: for they know
The Lyric Rose.
© Robert Crawford
What other work in the world have I
Than but to sing my song, and die?
No other work of hate or love
For hell below or heaven above!
The Angel In The House. Book II. Canto V.
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
III The Heart's Prophecies
Be not amazed at life; 'tis still
The mode of God with His elect
Their hopes exactly to fulfil,
In times and ways they least expect.
Sorrows Importunity
© Alfred Austin
When Sorrow first came wailing to my door,
April rehearsed the madrigal of May;
And, as I ne'er had seen her face before,
I kept on singing, and she went her way.
The Dykes
© Rudyard Kipling
We have no heart for the fishing, we have no hand for the oar
All that our fathers taught us of old pleases us now no more;
All that our own hearts bid us believe we doubt where we do not deny
There is no proof in the bread we eat or rest in the toil we ply.
A Farmhouse Dirge
© Alfred Austin
Will you walk with me to the brow of the hill, to visit the farmer's wife,
Whose daughter lies in the churchyard now, eased of the ache of life?
Half a mile by the winding lane, another half to the top:
There you may lean o'er the gate and rest; she will want me awhile to stop,
Stop and talk of her girl that is gone and no more will wake or weep,
Or to listen rather, for sorrow loves to babble its pain to sleep.
Late Came the God
© Rudyard Kipling
Late came the God, having sent his forerunners who were
not regarded-
John Heki
© Charles Harpur
Should Switzerlands rude rocks be held the throne
Of freedom (sanctioned there by God to quell
We too shall Sleep
© Archibald Lampman
Not, not for thee,
Belovèd child, the burning grasp of life
Shall bruise the tender soul. The noise, and strife,
And clamor of midday thou shalt not see;
The Poet
© Madison Julius Cawein
He stands above all worldly schism,
And, gazing over life's abysm,
Beholds within the starry range
Of heaven laws of death and change,
That, through his soul's prophetic prism,
Are turned to rainbows wild and strange.
Alma; or, The Progress of the Mind. In Three Cantos. - Canto II.
© Matthew Prior
Richard, quoth Matt, these words of thine
Speak something sly and something fine;
But I shall e'en resume my theme,
However thou may'st praise or blame.
Like to a Coin
© Arlo Bates
LIKE to a coin, passing from hand to hand,
Are common memories, and day by day
The Oath
© Allen Tate
It was near evening, the room was cold
Half dark; Uncle Ben's brass bullet-mould
A Plea For Our Northern Winters
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Oh, Earth, where is the mantle of pleasant emerald dye
That robed thee in sweet summer-time, and gladdened heart and eye,
Adorned with blooming roses, graceful ferns and blossoms sweet,
And bright green moss like velvet that lay soft beneath our feet?
