Poems with rhymes of Rhyme Page #3

And consecrate it to endless time;
For it inspired a bard to win
Ecstatic heights in thought and rhyme.

In love's sweet morning and life's best prime,
When the great brass orchestra played and played,
And set our thoughts to rhyme.

With those old polysyllables would chime,
Where, turn about, reigned Phoebus, sire of rhyme,

Till its claws come? Prithee, for this one time,
Content thee with a visionary rhyme.

Dreamer of dreams, born out of my due time,
Why should I strive to set the crooked straight?
Let it suffice me that my murmuring rhyme

Now hope is changed to memory, and time
Becomes eternity,
As thought were chaunting to a runic rhyme

A kiss, a frock, a rhyme-
I never said they feed my heart,
But still they pass my time.

Intent to rescue some neglected rhyme,
Lone-blooming, from the mournful waste of time;

Now go and write thy little rhyme,
As of thine own creating.
Thou seest the day is past its prime;

There are many, far too many, in the world of prose and rhyme,
Always looking for another’s ‘footsteps on the sands of time.’

Has been the burthen of a rhyme
Within my heart since first I came
To know thee in thy mellow prime;

We sing some old rhyme
That made the wood ring again
In summer time--

(A bad name to rhyme,
But I reckon that I'm

So much to grieve , so little time.
Spending our years in perplexing rhyme.

It cost me Lord knows how much time
To shape it into sense and rhyme:

And back and forth to the music’s rhyme
We moved together, and all the time

That is brimmed from the pale fire of time:
White woman with numberless dreams,
I bring you my passionate rhyme.

That with meaningless words and profusion of rhyme,
To a dreamy and musical rhythm keeps time.

And consecrate it to endless time;
For it inspired a bard to win
Ecstatic heights in thought and rhyme.

That they bring not to our time
One poor couplet of the rhyme