Time poems
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By the Statue of King Charles at Charing Cross
© Lionel Pigot Johnson
Sombre and rich, the skies;
Great glooms, and starry plains.
Gently the night wind sighs;
Else a vast silence reigns.
Eclogue 2: Alexis
© Publius Vergilius Maro
The shepherd Corydon with love was fired
For fair Alexis, his own master's joy:
The High Tide on the Coast of Lincolnshire
© Jean Ingelow
(1571.)
The old mayor climbed the belfry tower,
The Song of the Mad Prince
© Walter de la Mare
WHO said, " Peacock Pie " ?
The old King to the sparrow :
Who said, " Crops are ripe " ?
Rust to the harrow :
Who said, " Where sleeps she now ?
Times Changes In A Household
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
They were as fair and bright a band as ever filled with pride
Parental hearts whose task it was children beloved to guide;
And every care that love upon its idols bright may shower
Was lavished with impartial hand upon each fair young flower.
The Lyre Of Anacreon
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
THE minstrel of the classic lay
Of love and wine who sings
Still found the fingers run astray
That touched the rebel strings.
Abstrosophy
© Gelett Burgess
If echoes from the fitful past
Could rise to mental view,
Would all their fancied radiance last
Or would some odors from the blast,
Untouched by Time, accrue?
Isaura
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Dost thou not tire, Isaura, of this play?
"What play?" Why, this old play of winning hearts!
Nay, now, lift not thine eyes in that feigned way:
'Tis all in vainI know thee and thine arts.
"In Exchange For His Soul!"
© Isabella Valancy Crawford
Long time one whisper'd in his ear--
"Give me my strong, pure soul; behold
'Tis mine to give what men hold dear--
The treasure of red gold."
Greenwich Hospital
© William Lisle Bowles
Come to these peaceful seats, and think no more
Of cold, of midnight watchings, or the roar
Sheep-Killer
© Ernest G Moll
But since a farmer needs must have his sleep,
That night I put a bullet in his head,
Gave the world back to God, and went to bed.
Your Honeymoon Will Last
© George Ade
She:
When I settle with my hubby
In our little home,
He must not be wild and clubby,
He must never roam.
To My Native Land
© Jens Baggesen
Thou spot of earth, where from the breast of woe
My eye first rose, and in the purple glow
Of morning, and the dewy smile of love,
Marked the first gloamings of the Power above:
Titmarshs Carmen Lilliense
© William Makepeace Thackeray
My heart is weary, my peace is gone,
How shall I e'er my woes reveal?
I have no money, I lie in pawn,
A stranger in the town of Lille.
Tale XXI
© George Crabbe
rise;
Not there the wise alone their entrance find,
Imparting useful light to mortals blind;
But, blind themselves, these erring guides hold out
Alluring lights to lead us far about;
Screen'd by such means, here Scandal whets her
My Literary Friend
© Henry Lawson
Once I wrote a little poem which I thought was very fine,
And I showed the printers copy to a critic friend of mine,
First he praised the thing a little, then he found a little fault;
The ideas are good, he muttered, but the rhythm seems to halt.
The Belfry
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Dark is the stair, and humid the old walls
Wherein it winds, on worn stones, up the tower.
Only by loophole chinks at intervals
Pierces the late glow of this August hour.
Ode to Ethiopia
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
O Mother Race! to thee I bring
This pledge of faith unwavering,
This tribute to thy glory.
I know the pangs which thou didst feel,
When Slavery crushed thee with its heel,
With thy dear blood all gory.
Sonnet To George Romney, Esq. On His Picture Of Me In Crayons
© William Cowper
Romney, expert infallibly to trace
On chart of canvas, not the form alone
And semblance, but, however faintly shown,
The mind's impression too on every face;
