"Time for bed!" - the weary day With its toils has passed away Sol has wrapped his forehead bright In the curtains of the night, And his glorious lamp again Lowered behind the western main...
When the south-west wind came The air grew bright and sweet, as though a flame Had cleansed the world of winter. The low sky As the wind lifted it rose trembling vast and high, And white clouds sallied by...
I heard a gentle maiden, in the spring, Set her sweet sighs to music, and thus sing: "Fly through the world, and I will follow thee, Only for looks that may turn back on me; ...
1. Like the ghost of a dear friend dead Is Time long past. A tone which is now forever fled, A hope which is now forever past, A love so sweet it could not last, Was Time long past.
Time of crisp and tawny leaves, And of tarnished harvest sheaves, And of dusty grasses - weeds - Thistles, with their tufted seeds Voyaging the Autumn breeze Like as fairy argosies:...
There was nought in the Valley But a Tower of Ivory, Its base enwreathed with red Flowers that at evening Caught the sun's crimson As to Ocean low he sped.
On the wide level of a mountain's head, (I knew not where, but 'twas some faery place) Their pinions, ostrich-like, for sails outspread, Two lovely children run an endless race,...
Time has made conquest of so many things That once were mine. Swift-footed, eager youth That ran to meet the years; bold brigand health, That broke all laws of reason unafraid,...
Time looked me in the eyes while passing by The milestone of the year. That piercing gaze Was both an accusation and reproach. No speech was needed. In a sorrowing look...
Oh, boastful, wicked land, that once was beautiful and great, How bitter and how black must be your self-invited fate, While Time goes down the centuries and sings his hymn of hate! ...
I've a Friend, over the sea; I like him, but he loves me; It all grew out of the books I write; They find such favour in his sight That he slaughters you with savage looks...
Hallo, Metropolitan - Ubiquitous windows staring all ways, Red eye notching the darkness. No use to ogle that slip of a moon. This midnight the moon, Playing virgin after all her encounters,...
Yes; I write verses now and then, But blunt and flaccid is my pen, No longer talk'd of by young men As rather clever; In the last quarter are my eyes, You see it by their form and size;...
There's nothing to do in the morning but stew, Till it's time to get up and dress; Till my nurse comes in to button and pin, And dress me more or less:...
They know the time to go! The fairy clocks strike their inaudible hour In field and woodland, and each punctual flower Bows at the signal an obedient head And hastes to bed.
Summah 's nice, wif sun a-shinin', Spring is good wif greens and grass, An' dey 's some t'ings nice 'bout wintah, Dough hit brings de freezin' blas; But de time dat is de fines',...