At That Hour

Related poetry:

1. At the Mid Hour of Night At the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping, I fly To the lone vale we loved, when life shone warm in thine eye; And I think oft, if spirits can steal from the regions of air, To revisit past scenes of delight, thou wilt come to me there, And tell me our love […]...
2. Damayante To Nala In The Hour Of Exile SHALT thou be conquered of a human fate My liege, my lover, whose imperial head Hath never bent in sorrow of defeat? Shalt thou be vanquished, whose imperial feet Have shattered armies and stamped empires dead? Who shall unking thee, husband of a queen? Wear thou thy majesty inviolate. Earth’s glories flee of human eyes […]...
3. The Children's Hour Between the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day’s occupation, That is know as the children’s hour. I hear in the chamber above me The patter of little feet, The sound of a door that is opened, And voices soft and sweet. From my study […]...
4. It Is the Hour It is the hour when from the boughs The nightingale’s high note is heard; It is the hour when lover’s vows Seem sweet in every whisper’d word; And gentle winds and waters near, Make music to the lonely ear. Each flower the dews have lightly wet, And in the sky the stars are met, And […]...
5. AT MIDNIGHT HOUR [Goethe relates that a remarkable situation He was in one bright moonlight night led to the composition of this Sweet song, which was “the dearer to him because he could not say Whence it came and whither it would.”] AT midnight hour I went, not willingly, A little, little boy, yon churchyard past, To Father […]...
6. Echo How sweet the answer Echo makes To music at night, When, roused by lute or horn, she wakes, And far away, o’er lawns and lakes, Goes answering light. Yet Love hath echoes truer far, And far more sweet, Than e’er beneath the moonlight’s star, Of horn or lute, or soft guitar, The songs repeat. ‘Tis […]...
7. The Dark Hour And now, when merry winds do blow, And rain makes trees look fresh, An overpowering staleness holds This mortal flesh. Though well I love to feel the rain, And be by winds well blown The mystery of mortal life Doth press me down. And, In this mood, come now what will, Shine Rainbow, Cuckoo call; […]...
8. The Hour Before Dawn A cursing rogue with a merry face, A bundle of rags upon a crutch, Stumbled upon that windy place Called Cruachan, and it was as much As the one sturdy leg could do To keep him upright while he cursed. He had counted, where long years ago Queen Maeve’s nine Maines had been nursed, A […]...
9. My Hour Day after day behold me plying My pen within an office drear; The dullest dog, till homeward hieing, Then lo! I reign a king of cheer. A throne have I of padded leather, A little court of kiddies three, A wife who smiles whate’er the weather, A feast of muffins, jam and tea. The table […]...
10. From This Hour the Pledge is Given From this hour the pledge is given, From this hour my soul is thine: Come what will, from earth of heaven, Weal or woe, thy fate be mine. When the proud and great stood by thee, None dared thy rights to spurn; And if now they’re false and fly thee, Shall I, too, falsely turn? […]...
11. Romance To clasp you now and feel your head close-pressed, Scented and warm against my beating breast; To whisper soft and quivering your name, And drink the passion burning in your frame; To lie at full length, taut, with cheek to cheek, And tease your mouth with kisses till you speak Love words, mad words, dream […]...
12. One Hour to Madness and Joy ONE hour to madness and joy! O furious! O confine me not! (What is this that frees me so in storms? What do my shouts amid lightnings and raging winds mean?) O to drink the mystic deliria deeper than any other man! O savage and tender achings! (I bequeath them to you, my children, I […]...
13. Ne'er Ask the Hour Ne’er ask the hour what is it to us How Time deals out his treasures? The golden moments lent us thus Are not his coin, but Pleasure’s. If counting them o’er could add to their blisses, I’d number each glorious second: But moments of joy are, like Lesbia’s kisses, Too quick and sweet to be […]...
14. How Dear to Me the Hour How dear to me the hour when daylight dies, And sunbeams melt along the silent sea, For then sweet dreams of other days arise, And memory breathes her vesper sigh to thee. And, as I watch the line of light, that plays Along the smooth wave toward the burning west, I long to tread that […]...
15. Ode to Fanny Physician Nature! Let my spirit blood! O ease my heart of verse and let me rest; Throw me upon thy Tripod, till the flood Of stifling numbers ebbs from my full breast. A theme! a theme! great nature! give a theme; Let me begin my dream. I come I see thee, as thou standest there, […]...
16. So Live, So Love, So Use That Fragile Hour SO live, so love, so use that fragile hour, That when the dark hand of the shining power Shall one from other, wife or husband, take, The poor survivor may not weep and wake....
17. Music In The Flat When Tom and I were married, we took a little flat; I had a taste for singing and playing and all that. And Tom, who loved to hear me, said he hoped I would not stop All practice, like so many wives who let their Music drop. So I resolved to set apart an hour […]...
18. The Only Child Lest he miss other children, lo! His angel is his playfellow. A riotous angel two years old, With wings of rose and curls of gold. There on the nursery floor together They play when it is rainy weather, Building brick castles with much pain, Only to knock them down again. Two golden heads together look […]...
19. The Year of the Rose From the depths of the green garden-closes Where the summer in darkness dozes Till autumn pluck from his hand An hour-glass that holds not a sand; From the maze that a flower-belt encloses To the stones and sea-grass on the strand How red was the reign of the roses Over the rose-crowned land! The year […]...
20. Farewell! But Whenever You Welcome the Hour Farewell! but whenever you welcome the hour That awakens the night-song of mirth in your bower, Then think of the friend who once welcomed it too, And forgot his own griefs to be happy with you. His griefs may return, not a hope may remain Of the few that have brighten’d his pathway of pain, […]...
21. I think the longest Hour of all I think the longest Hour of all Is when the Cars have come And we are waiting for the Coach It seems as though the Time Indignant that the Joy was come Did block the Gilded Hands And would not let the Seconds by But slowest instant ends The Pendulum begins to count Like little […]...
22. The Dead Village Here there is death. But even here, they say, Here where the dull sun shines this afternoon As desolate as ever the dead moon Did glimmer on dead Sardis, men were gay; And there were little children here to play, With small soft hands that once did keep in tune The strings that stretch from […]...
23. Stanzas IF thou be in a lonely place, If one hour’s calm be thine, As Evening bends her placid face O’er this sweet day’s decline; If all the earth and all the heaven Now look serene to thee, As o’er them shuts the summer even, One moment­think of me! Pause, in the lane, returning home; ‘Tis […]...
24. Spring At the first hour, it was as if one said, “Arise.” At the second hour, it was as if one said, “Go forth.” And the winter constellations that are like patient ox-eyes Sank below the white horizon at the north. At the third hour, it was as if one said, “I thirst”; At the fourth […]...
25. Its Hour with itself Its Hour with itself The Spirit never shows. What Terror would enthrall the Street Could Countenance disclose The Subterranean Freight The Cellars of the Soul Thank God the loudest Place he made Is license to be still....
26. Strings in the Earth and Air Strings in the earth and air Make music sweet; Strings by the river where The willows meet. There’s music along the river For Love wanders there, Pale flowers on his mantle, Dark leaves on his hair. All softly playing, With head to the music bent, And fingers straying Upon an instrument....
27. Skunk Hour For Elizabeth Bishop Nautilus Island’s hermit Heiress still lives through winter in her Spartan cottage; Her sheep still graze above the sea. Her son’s a bishop. Her farmer Is first selectman in our village, She’s in her dotage. Thirsting for The hierarchic privacy Of Queen Victoria’s century, She buys up all The eyesores facing her […]...
28. This that would greet an hour ago This that would greet an hour ago Is quaintest Distance now Had it a Guest from Paradise Nor glow, would it, nor bow Had it a notice from the Noon Nor beam would it nor warm Match me the Silver Reticence Match me the Solid Calm...
29. Now, God Be Thanked Who Has Matched Us With His Hour Now, God be thanked Who has matched us with His hour, And caught our youth, and wakened us from sleeping, With hand made sure, clear eye, and sharpened power, To turn, as swimmers into cleanness leaping, Glad from a world grown old and cold and weary, Leave the sick hearts that honour could not move, […]...
30. There comes an hour when begging stops There comes an hour when begging stops, When the long interceding lips Perceive their prayer is vain. “Thou shalt not” is a kinder sword Than from a disappointing God “Disciple, call again.”...
31. Hast Never Come to Thee an Hour HAST never come to thee an hour, A sudden gleam divine, precipitating, bursting all these bubbles, fashions, wealth? These eager business aims-books, politics, art, amours, To utter nothingness?...
32. Autumn And Winter Three months bade wane and wax the wintering moon Between two dates of death, while men were fain Yet of the living light that all too soon Three months bade wane. Cold autumn, wan with wrath of wind and rain, Saw pass a soul sweet as the sovereign tune That death smote silent when he […]...
33. Fly Not Yet Fly not yet, ’tis just the hour, When pleasure, like the midnight flower That scorns the eye of vulgar light, Begins to bloom for sons of night, And maids who love the moon. ‘Twas but to bless these hours of shade That beauty and the moon were made; ‘Tis then their soft attractions glowing Set […]...
34. Seaweed When descends on the Atlantic The gigantic Storm-wind of the equinox, Landword in his wrath he scourges The toiling surges, Laden with seaweed from the rocks: From Bermuda’s reefs; from edges Of sunken ledges, In some far-off, bright Azore; From Bahama, and the dashing Silver-flashing Surges of San Salvador; From the tumbling surf, that buries […]...
35. The Hour-glass That hour-glass which there you see With water fill’d, sirs, credit me, The humour was, as I have read, But lovers’ tears incrystalled. Which, as they drop by drop do pass From th’ upper to the under-glass, Do in a trickling manner tell, By many a watery syllable, That lovers’ tears in lifetime shed Do […]...
36. Absence WHEN from the craggy mountain’s pathless steep, Whose flinty brow hangs o’er the raging sea, My wand’ring eye beholds the foamy deep, I mark the restless surge­and think of THEE. The curling waves, the passing breezes move, Changing and treach’rous as the breath of LOVE; The “sad similitude” awakes my smart, And thy dear image […]...
37. Half An Hour I never had you, nor will I ever have you I suppose. A few words, an approach As in the bar yesterday, and nothing more. It is, undeniably, a pity. But we who serve Art Sometimes with intensity of mind, and of course only For a short while, we create pleasure Which almost seems real. […]...
38. Even-song Blest be the God of love, Who gave me eyes, and light, and power this day, Both to be busy, and to play. But much more blest be God above, Who gave me sight alone, Which to himself he did deny: For when he sees my ways, I die: But I have got his son, […]...
39. Hi-spy Strange that the city thoroughfare, Noisy and bustling all the day, Should with the night renounce its care, And lend itself to children’s play! Oh, girls are girls, and boys are boys, And have been so since Abel’s birth, And shall be so till dolls and toys Are with the children swept from earth. The […]...
40. Shiela When I played my penny whistle on the braes above Lochgyle The heather bloomed about us, and we heard the peewit call; As you bent above your knitting something fey was in your smile, And fine and soft and slow the rain made silver on your shawl. Your cheeks were pink like painted cheeks, your […]...