Mean Time by Carol Ann Duffy

Carol Ann DuffyThe clocks slid back an hour
and stole light from my life
as I walked through the wrong part of town
mourning our love

And, of course, unmendable rain
fell to the bleak streets
where I felt my heart gnaw
at all our mistakes

If the darkening sky could lift
more than one hour from this day
there are words I would never have said
nor have heard you say

But we will be dead, as we know,
beyond all light
these are the shortened days
and the endless nights.

Read more in Mean Time (a fourth collection of poems) by Carol Ann Duffy, the current British Poet Laureate

To the Virgins, to make much of Time, by Robert Herrick

Robert HerrickGather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying:
And this same flower that smiles today
To-morrow 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.

That 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 for ever tarry.

Read more in Herrick: Everyman's Poetry: 12

Time and Grief, by William Leslie Bowles

William Leslie BowlesO Time! Who know’st a lenient hand to lay
Softest on sorrow’s wound, and slowly thence
(Lulling to sad repose the weary sense)
The faint pang stealest unperceived away;
On thee I rest my only hope at last,
And think, when thou hast dried the bitter tear
That flows in vain o’er all my soul held dear,
I may look back on every sorrow past,
And meet life’s peaceful evening with a smile:
As some lone bird, at day’s departing hour,
Sings in the sun beam, of the transient shower
Forgetful, though its wings are wet the while:-
Yet ah! How much must this poor heart endure,
Which hopes from thee, and thee alone, a cure!

Leisure, by William Henry Davies

William Henry DaviesWhat 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.

Read more in Time to Stand and Stare: A Life of W.H. Davies with Selected Poems by Barbara Hooper and William Henry Davies

In Time, by Robert Graves

Robert GravesIn time all undertakings are made good,
All cruelties remedied,
Each bond resealed more firmly than before –
Befriend us, Time, Love’s gaunt executor!

Read more in The Complete Poems (Penguin Modern Classics) by Robert Graves

Burnt Norton, by T S Eliot

T S EliotTime present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future,
And time future contained in time past.
If all time is eternally present
All time is unredeemable.
What might have been is an abstraction
Remaining a perpetual possibility
Only in a world of speculation.
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.
Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened
Into the rose-garden.

Read more in Four Quartets (Faber Poetry) by T S Eliot