Tag Archives: time

The Song Of The Dial

The Dial faced the summer sun,
The garden blossomed all around;
If happiness could bless a scene
I felt that here was holy ground;
Afar I heard the chime of bells,
And caught a glimpse of gleaming towers,
And all the while the Dial sang,
Until the dell with echoes rang,
“I only count the shining hours.”

And as the years go fleeting by,
And locks of brown are flecked with grey,
And shadows loom across the rim
Of what was once a perfect day,
There swings a cadence through my brain,
A cadence born of sun and flowers,
When all the dell enchanted rang
With that dear song the Dial sang:
“I only count the shining hours.”
~ Peter Airey ~

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The Sunlight On The Garden

The sunlight on the garden
Hardens and grows cold,
We cannot cage the minute
Within its nets of gold;
When all is told
We cannot beg for pardon.

Our freedom as free lances
Advances towards its end;
The earth compels, upon it
Sonnets and birds descend;
And soon, my friend,
We shall have no time for dances.

The sky was good for flying
Defying the church bells
And every evil iron
Siren and what it tells:
The earth compels,
We are dying, Egypt, dying

And not expecting pardon,
Hardened in heart anew,
But glad to have sat under
Thunder and rain with you,
And grateful too
For sunlight on the garden.

~Louis Macneice~

Love Over All

Time flies,
Suns rise
And shadows fall.
Let time go by.
Love is forever over all.

….from an English sun-dial

Forgotten in Autumn

Translated from the Spanish by Alastair Reid

It was half past seven
in autumn
and I was waiting
for someone or other.
Time,
tired of being there with me,
little by little left
and left me alone.

I was left with the sand
of the day, with the water,
wrack
of a sad week, murdered away.

‘What’s gone on?’ the leaves
of Paris asked me. ‘Who are you waiting for?’

And a few times I was humiliated,
first by the light as it left,
then by dogs, cats and policemen.

I was left alone
like a solitary horse
which knows no night or day in the grass,
only the salt of winter.

I stayed
so alone, so empty
that the leaves were weeping,
the last ones, and later
they fell like tears.

Never before
or after
did I feel so suddenly alone.
It was waiting for someone that did it —
I don’t remember,
it was crazily,
fleetingly,
and suddenly just loneliness,
that moment,
the sense of something
lost along the way,
which suddenly like the shadow itself
spread the long flag of its presence.

Later I fled from that
insane corner,
walking as quickly as possible,
as if running away from the night,
from a black and rolling boulder.
What i am telling is nothing,
but it happened to me once while I was waiting
for someone or other.

~Pablo Neruda~

For Those Who Love

Time is….
Too slow for those who wait,
Too swift for those who fear,
Too long for those who grieve,
Too short for those who rejoice;
But for those who love, time is eternity.
~Henry Van Dyke~

Atalanta in Calydon

An excerpt from the verse of Greek Style Drama…

Before the beginning of years
There came to the making of man
Time, with a gift of tears;
Grief, with a glass that ran;
Pleasure, with pain for leaven;
Summer, with flowers that fell;
Remembrance, fallen from heaven,
And madness risen from hell;
Strength without hands to smite;
Love that endures for a breath;
Night, the shadow of light,
And Life, the shadow of death.
~Algernon Charles Swinburne~

A Psalm of Life

Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world’s broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no Future, howe’er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act,- act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o’erhead!

Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o’er life’s solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.

~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow~

Days

I started this blog a year ago today…

What are days for?
Days are where we live.
They come, they wake us
Time and time over.
They are to be happy in:
Where can we live but days?

Ah, solving that question
Brings the priest and the doctor
In their long coats
Running over the fields.

~Philip Larkin~

Leisure

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.

No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.

No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars like skies at night.

No time to turn at Beauty’s glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor life this, if full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

William Henry Davies

To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old time is still a-flying;
And this same flower that smiles today,
Tomorrow will be dying.

The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,
The higher he’s a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he’s to setting.

The age is best which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer;
But being spent, the worse and worst
Times still succeed the former.

Then be not coy, but use your time,
And while ye may, go marry;
For having lost but once your prime,
You may forever tarry.

~Robert Herrick~ 1591-1674

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