10 Best Famous Old As Time Poems

Here is a collection of the top 10 all-time best famous Old As Time poems. This is a select list of the best famous Old As Time poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Old As Time poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of old as time poems.

• All Famous Old As Time Poems

 The darkness crumbles away 
It is the same old druid Time as ever, 
Only a live thing leaps my hand, 
A ***** sardonic rat, 
As I pull the parapet's poppy
To stick behind my ear. 
Droll rat, they would shoot you if they knew 
Your cosmopolitan sympathies, 
Now you have touched this English hand 
You will do the same to a German
Soon, no doubt, if it be your pleasure 
To cross the sleeping green between. 
It seems you inwardly grin as you pass 
Strong eyes, fine limbs, haughty athletes, 
Less chanced than you for life,
Bonds to the whims of murder, 
Sprawled in the bowels of the earth, 
The torn fields of France. 
What do you see in our eyes 
At the shrieking iron and flame
Hurled through still heavens? 
What quaver -what heart aghast? 
Poppies whose roots are in men's veins 
Drop, and are ever dropping; 
But mine in my ear is safe,
Just a little white with the dust.

 NO song nor dance I bring from yon great city,
That queens it o’er our taste—the more’s the pity:
Tho’ by the bye, abroad why will you roam?
Good sense and taste are natives here at home:
But not for panegyric I appear,
I come to wish you all a good New Year!
Old Father Time deputes me here before ye,
Not for to preach, but tell his simple story:
The sage, grave Ancient cough’d, and bade me say,
“You’re one year older this important day,”
If wiser too—he hinted some suggestion,
But ’twould be rude, you know, to ask the question;
And with a would-be roguish leer and wink,
Said—“Sutherland, in one word, bid them Think!”


 Ye sprightly youths, quite flush with hope and spirit,
Who think to storm the world by dint of merit,
To you the dotard has a deal to say,
In his sly, dry, sententious, proverb way!
He bids you mind, amid your thoughtless rattle,
That the first blow is ever half the battle;
That tho’ some by the skirt may try to snatch him,
Yet by the foreclock is the hold to catch him;
That whether doing, suffering, or forbearing,
You may do miracles by persevering.


 Last, tho’ not least in love, ye youthful fair,
Angelic forms, high Heaven’s peculiar care!
To you old Bald-pate smoothes his wrinkled brow,
And humbly begs you’ll mind the important-Now!
To crown your happiness he asks your leave,
And offers, bliss to give and to receive.


 For our sincere, tho’ haply weak endeavours,
With grateful pride we own your many favours;
And howsoe’er our tongues may ill reveal it,
Believe our glowing bosoms truly feel it.

 WHERE now these mingled ruins lie 
A temple once to Bacchus rose, 
Beneath whose roof, aspiring high, 
Full many a guest forgot his woes. 

No more this dome, by tempests torn, 
Affords a social safe retreat; 
But ravens here, with eye forlorn, 
And clustering bats henceforth will meet. 

The Priestess of this ruined shrine, 
Unable to survive the stroke, 
Presents no more the ruddy wine,-- 
Her glasses gone, her china broke. 

The friendly Host, whose social hand 
Accosted strangers at the door, 
Has left at length his wonted stand, 
And greets the weary guest no more. 

Old creeping Time, that brings decay, 
Might yet have spared these mouldering walls, 
Alike beneath whose potent sway 
A temple or a tavern falls. 

Is this the place where mirth and joy, 
Coy nymphs, and sprightly lads were found? 
Indeed! no more the nymphs are coy, 
No more the flowing bowls go round. 

Is this the place where festive song 
Deceived the wintry hours away? 
No more the swains the tune prolong, 
No more the maidens join the lay. 

Is this the place where Nancy slept 
In downy beds of blue and green? 
Dame Nature here no vigils kept, 
No cold unfeeling guards were seen. 

’T is gone!--and Nancy tempts no more; 
Deep, unrelenting silence reigns; 
Of all that pleased, that charmed before, 
The tottering chimney scarce remains. 

Ye tyrant winds, whose ruffian blast 
Through doors and windows blew too strong, 
And all the roof to ruin cast,-- 
The roof that sheltered us so long,-- 

Your wrath appeased, I pray be kind 
If Mopsus should the dome renew, 
That we again may quaff his wine, 
Again collect our jovial crew.

 I’m pardoned out. Again the stars
Shine on me with their myriad eyes.
So long I’ve peered ‘twixt iron bars, 
I’m awed by this expanse of skies.
The world is wider than I thought, 
And yet ‘tis not so wide, I know, 
But into its remotest spot
My tale of shame can go.

I’m pardoned out. Old Father Time
Who seemed to halt in horror, when 
I strained my manhood by a crime, 
With steady step moves on again, 
And through the black appalling night, 
That walled me in a gloom accurst, 
The wonder of the morning light
In sudden glory burst.

I’m pardoned out. I shall be knows
No more by number, but by name.
And yet each whispering wind has blown
Abroad the story of my shame.
I dread to see men shrink away
With startled looks of scorn or fear, 
When in life’s crowded marts some day, 
That name falls on their ear.

I’m pardoned out, ah God! to roam
Like some whipped dog among my kind.
I have no friends, I have no home, 
Save these bleak walls I leave behind.
How can I face the world of men, 
My comrades in the days of yore? 
Oh! hide me in my cell again, 
And, warden lock the door.

 Command the roof, great Genius, and from thence
Into this house pour down thy influence,
That through each room a golden pipe may run
Of living water by thy benizon;
Fulfil the larders, and with strength'ning bread
Be ever-more these bins replenished.
Next, like a bishop consecrate my ground,
That lucky fairies here may dance their round;
And, after that, lay down some silver pence,
The master's charge and care to recompence.
Charm then the chambers; make the beds for ease,
More than for peevish pining sicknesses;
Fix the foundation fast, and let the roof
Grow old with time, but yet keep weather-proof.