9 Poems About Time

Let these poems about time encourage you to use your time wisely. Do we have time for the people in our lives, for our family and friends, do we have time for God, do we have time to do the things we need to get done? Read the thoughts of these Poets about the use of time.

Short Poems   /   Poems Of Encouragement    /   Poems About Time


  1. When I Have Time
    Poet: Miriam Brown


    When I have time so many things I'll do
    To make life happier and more fair
    For those whose lives are crowded now with care;
    I'll help to lift them from their low despair,
    When I have time.

    When I have the time the friend I love so well
    Shall know no more these weary toiling days;
    I'll lead her feet in pleasant paths always,
    And cheer her heart with words of sweetest praise,
    When I have time.

    When you have time! The friend you hold so dear
    May be beyond the reach of all your sweet intent;
    May never know that you so kindly meant
    To fill her life with sweet content,
    When you had time.

    Now is the time! Ah, friend, no longer wait
    To scatter loving smiles and words of cheer
    To those around whose lives are now so dear;
    They may not need you in the coming year
    Now is the time.



  2. No Time For God
    Poet: Unknown


    No time for God?
    What fools we are to clutter up
    Our lives with common things
    And leave without heart’s gate
    The Lord of Life and life itself,
    Our God!

    No time for God?
    As soon to say no time
    to eat, sleep, love or die.
    Take time for God
    or you shall dwarf your soul,

    And when the death angel
    Comes knocking at your door
    A poor misshapen thing you’ll be
    To step into eternity

    No time for God?
    That day when sickness
    Comes or trouble finds you out,
    And you cry out to God,
    Will He have time for you?

    No time for God?
    Some day you’ll lay aside
    This mortal self and make your way
    To worlds unknown
    And when you meet Him face to face,
    Will He - should He -
    Have time for you?



  3. Now
    Poet: Sarah Knowles Bolton


    Forget the past and live the present hour;
    Now is the time to work, the time to fill
    The soul with noblest thoughts, the time to will
    Heroic deeds, to use whatever dower
    Heaven has bestowed, to test our utmost power.
    Now is the time to live, and, better still,
    To serve our loved ones; over passing ill

    To rise triumphant; thus the perfect flower
    Of life shall come to fruitage; wealth amass
    For grandest giving ere the time be gone.
    Be glad to-day--to-morrow may bring tears;
    Be brave to-day; the darkest night will pass
    And golden days will usher in the dawn;
    Who conquers now shall rule the coming years.



  4. The Hours
    Poet: Christopher Pearse Cranch


    The hours are viewless angels,
    That still go gliding by,
    And bear each minute's record up
    To him who sits on high;
    And we who walk among them,
    As one by one departs,
    See not that they are hovering
    Forever round our hearts.

    Like summer bees that hover
    Around the idle flowers,
    They gather every act and thought,
    Those viewless angel-hours;
    The poison or the nectar
    The heart's deep flower cups yield,
    A sample still they gather swift,
    And leave us in the field.

    And some flit by on pinions
    Of joyous gold and blue,
    And some flag on with drooping wing
    Of sorrow's darker hue;
    But still they steal the record
    And bear it far away;
    Their mission-flight, by day and night,
    No magic power can stay.

    And as we spend each minute
    That God to us has given,
    The deeds are known before his throne,
    The tale is told in heaven.
    Those bee-like hours we see not,
    Nor hear their noiseless wings;
    We often feel--too oft--when flown
    That they have left their stings.

    So teach me, heavenly Father,
    To meet each flying hour,
    That as they go they may not show
    My heart a poison flower!
    So, when death brings its shadows,
    The hours that linger last
    Shall bear my hopes on angels' wings,
    Unfettered by the past.



  5. Make Haste, O Man! To Live
    Poet: Horatius Bonar


    Make haste, O man! to live,
    For thou so soon must die;
    Time hurries past thee like the breeze;
    How swift its moments fly.
    Make haste, O man! to live.

    Make haste, O man! to do
    Whatever must be done,
    Thou hast no time to lose in sloth,
    Thy day will soon be gone.
    Make haste, O man! to live.

    To breathe, and wake, and sleep,
    To smile, to sigh, to grieve,
    To move in idleness through earth,
    This, this is not to live.
    Make haste, O man! to live.

    The useful, not the great;
    The thing that never dies,
    The silent toil that is not lost,
    Set these before thine eyes.
    Make haste, O man! to live.

    Make haste, O man! to live.
    Thy time is almost o'er;
    Oh! sleep not, dream not, but arise,
    The Judge is at the door.
    Make haste, O man! to live.



  6. Time Is
    Poet: Henry VanDyke


    Time is
    Too slow for those who wait,
    Too swift for those who fear,
    Too long for those who grieve,
    Too short for those who rejoice,
    But for those who love, time is
    Eternity.



  7. Thievish Time
    Poet: Charles Mackay


    Thou shalt not rob me, thievish Time,
    Of all my blessings or my joy;
    I have some jewels in my heart
    Which thou art powerless to destroy.

    Thou mayest denude mine arm of strength,
    And leave my temples seamed and bare;
    Deprive mine eyes of passion's light,
    And scatter silver o'er my hair.

    But never, while a book remains,
    And breathes a woman or a child,
    Shalt thou deprive me whilst I live
    Of feelings fresh and undefiled.

    No, never while the earth is fair,
    And Reason keeps its dial bright,
    Whate'er thy robberies, O Time,
    Shall I be bankrupt of delight.

    Whate'er thy victories o'er my frame,
    Thou canst not cheat me of this truth:
    That, though the limbs may faint and fail,
    The spirit can renew its youth.

    So, thievish Time, I fear thee not;
    Thou'rt powerless on this heart of mine;
    My precious jewels are my own,
    'Tis but the settings that are thine.



  8. Years Slip By
    Poet: Maria Frink


    As years slip by, more thoughtful do we grow
    When unto those we love, farewell is said:
    To youth, Time moves with steps of lagging tread
    And hence they deem to all his flight is slow.
    But when maturer, higher growth we know,
    And light on our imperfect sight is shed,
    We come to feel a month, a year, swift fled,
    May mean a weight of overwhelming woe.

    With clasp of hand or loving kiss we part,
    And words of fondness, linking heart to heart,
    Speaking of what shall be when we again
    Answer with smiles the look of trustful eyes;
    But if this be no more beneath the skies,
    Unutterable the heritage of pain.



  9. There Is A Time
    By Walter E. Isenhour


    There is a time to work and play,
    A time to eat and sleep;
    A time to study and to pray,
    A time to laugh and week;
    A time for fellowship that's sweet,
    A time for sacred song;
    But never is there time to treat
    A human being wrong.

    There is a time to lift men up
    And help them on life's road;
    A time to drain their bitter cup
    And share their heave load;
    A time to bless them with our grace
    And boost them all along;
    But never is there time and place
    To treat our fellows wrong.

    There is a time to help men seek
    Our God who saves the soul;
    A time to show them that the meek
    Shall reach life's highest goal;
    A time to help them turn aside
    And leave the wicked throng;
    But never did our God provide
    A time to treat men wrong.

       
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