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Time To Go Post by :Chris_Margetis Category :Poems Author :Susan Coolidge Date :July 2011 Read :1704

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Time To Go

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.

The pale Anemone
Glides on her way with scarcely a good-night;
The Violets tie their purple nightcaps tight;
Hand clasped in hand, the dancing Columbines,
In blithesome lines,

Drop their last courtesies,
Flit from the scene, and couch them for their rest;
The Meadow Lily folds her scarlet vest
And hides it 'neath the Grasses' lengthening green;
Fair and serene,

Her sister Lily floats
On the blue pond, and raises golden eyes
To court the golden splendor of the skies,--
The sudden signal comes, and down she goes
To find repose,

In the cool depths below,
A little later, and the Asters blue
Depart in crowds, a brave and cheery crew;
While Golden-rod, still wide awake and gay,
Turns him away,

Furls his bright parasol,
And, like a little hero, meets his fate.
The Gentians, very proud to sit up late,
Next follow. Every Fern is tucked and set
'Neath coverlet,

Downy and soft and warm.
No little seedling voice is heard to grieve
Or make complaints the folding woods beneath;
No lingerer dares to stay, for well they know
The time to go.

Teach us your patience, brave,
Dear flowers, till we shall dare to part like you,
Willing God's will, sure that his clock strikes true,
That his sweet day augurs a sweeter morrow,
With smiles, not sorrow.

(The end)
Susan Coolidge's poem: Time To Go

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Gulf-stream Gulf-stream

Lonely and cold and fierce I keep my way, Scourge of the lands, companioned by the storm, Tossing to heaven my frontlet, wild and gray, Mateless, yet conscious ever of a warm And brooding presence close to mine all day. What is this alien thing, so near, so far, Close to my life always, but blending never? Hemmed in by walls whose crystal gates unbar Not at the instance of my strong endeavor To pierce the stronghold where their secrets are? Buoyant, impalpable,

Hints From Horace - Content Hints From Horace - Content

Hints From Horace - Content
ContentATHENS: CAPUCHIN CONVENT, March. 12, 1811. (i) Who would not laugh, if Lawrence (1), hired to grace (ii) His costly canvas with each flattered face, Abused his art, till Nature, with a blush, Saw cits grow Centaurs underneath his brush? Or, should some limner join, for show or sale, A Maid of Honour to a Mermaid's tail? (iii) Or low Dubost (2)--as once the world has seen-- Degrade God's creatures in his graphic spleen? Not all that forced politeness, which defends Fools in their faults, could gag his grinning friends. .