Poems by Allen Tate
Ode To The Confederate Dead
... To the grave? Shall we, more hopeful, set up the grave ...
Eclogue Of The Liberal And The Poet
... POET If not in a place, where are the People weeping ...
Correspondences
... Like thinning echoes tumbling to sleep beyond ...
Sonnets Of The Blood I
... Nor quite achieved when the perfection's won ...
Mr. Pope
... For Pope's tight back was rather a goat's than man's ...
The Anabasis
... Ob. MCMXXXII Noble beyond degree ...
The Meaning Of Death
... The threat Of time we in our own courage have forsworn ...
The Vigil Of Venus
... Tomorrow may loveless, may lover tomorrow make love ...
The Mediterranean
... The green coast that you, thunder-tossed, would win, ...
Seasons Of The Soul
... To the memory of John Peale Bishop, 1892-1944 ...
More Sonnets At Christmas II
... Well-milked Chinese, Negroes who cannot sing, ...
Sonnets Of The Blood VI
... From head to foot, burning with motherly light ...
Death Of Little Boys
... Will mount to the teeth, ascend the eyes, press back ...
Last Days Of Alice
... Through the shattered door, a dumb shade-harried crowd ...
More Sonnets At Christmas III
... Unstalked by Christ: these are the better notions ...
