Poems begining by T
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This Morning in a Morning Voice by Todd Boss : American Life in Poetry #221 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet La
© Ted Kooser
Sometimes, it's merely the sound of a child's voice in a nearby room that makes a parent feel immensely lucky. To celebrate Father's Day, here's a joyful poem of fatherhood by Todd Boss, who lives in St. Paul, Minnesota.
This Morning in a Morning Voice
to beat the froggiest
To Joseph Jefferson
© Henry Van Dyke
May 4th, 1898.To-day, fishing down the Swiftwater, I found Joseph Jefferson on a big rock in the middle of the brook, casting the fly for trout. He said he had fished this very stream three-and-forty years ago; and near by, in the Paradise Valley, he wrote his famous play.Leaf from my Diary.
We met on Nature's stage,
The Dilemma
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
Now, by the blessed Paphian queen,
Who heaves the breast of sweet sixteen;
The Summons
© Katharine Tynan
Straight to his death he went,
A smile on his lips,
All his life's joy unspent,
Into eclipse.
The Horkey
© Robert Bloomfield
What gossips prattled in the sun,
Who talk'd him fairly down,
Up, memory! tell; 'tis Suffolk fun,
And lingo of their own.
Tableau
© Countee Cullen
Locked arm in arm they cross the way
The black boy and the white,
The golden splendor of the day
The sable pride of night.
The Sword
© Isabella Valancy Crawford
At the forging of the Sword--
The mountain roots were stirr'd,
Like the heart-beats of a bird;
Like flax the tall trees wav'd,
So fiercely struck the Forgers of the Sword.
The Glove Of The Live Lady.
© Robert Crawford
Her glove! It was rare Ben who sung it,
That best of gloves of the lady dead!
Another's here, as one had flung it
In anger at her lover's head.
The Poetry Of Wordsworth
© George Meredith
A breath of the mountains, fresh born in the regions majestic,
That look with their eye-daring summits deep into the sky.
The voice of great Nature; sublime with her lofty conceptions,
Yet earnest and simple as any sweet child of the green lowly vale.
The Bonny, Bonny Dell
© George MacDonald
Oh! the bonny, bonny dell, whaur the yorlin sings,
Wi' a clip o' the sunshine atween his wings;
The Summer Nights Are Short
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
The summer nights are short
Where northern days are long:
The Prayer of Jacob
© John Logan
O God of Abraham! by whose hand
Thy people still are fed;
Who, through this weary pilgrimage,
Hast all our fathers led!
The Breezes Of June
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
OH! sweet and soft,
Returning oft,
As oft they pass benignly,
The warm June breezes come and go,
The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 1
© Publius Vergilius Maro
ARMS, and the man I sing, who, forcd by fate,
And haughty Junos unrelenting hate,
The Two Dreams
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
I MET one in the Land of Sleep
Who seemed a friend long known and true.
I woke. That friend I could not keep
For him I never knew.
The Mourner
© George Crabbe
He had his wish, had more; I will not paint
The lovers' meeting: she beheld him faint, -
With tender fears, she took a nearer view,
Her terrors doubling as her hopes withdrew;
He tried to smile, and, half succeeding, said,
"Yes! I must die," and hope for ever fled.
The Heir Of Lynne
© Andrew Lang
Of all the lords in faire Scotland
A song I will begin:
Amongst them all dwelled a lord
Which was the unthrifty Lord of Lynne.
The Prayer Of Agassiz
© John Greenleaf Whittier
On the isle of Penikese,
Ringed about by sapphire seas,
The Watcher
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
I think I hear the sound of horses' feet
Beating upon the graveled avenue.
Go to the window that looks on the street,
He would not let me die alone, I knew."
Back to the couch the patient watcher passed,
And said: "It is the wailing of the blast."
