Poems begining by T
/ page 277 of 916 /The Truce of God
© Katharine Tynan
Now to the stricken doe
And the wounded hind
There comes the Mercy of God
That is cool and kind.
"To fall ill as one should, deliriously"
© Anna Akhmatova
To fall ill as one should, deliriously
Hot, meet everyone again,
To stroll broad avenues in the seashore garden
Full of the wind and the sun.
To Italy (1818)
© Giacomo Leopardi
My country, I the walls, the arches see,
The columns, statues, and the towers
The Grasshopper
© Madison Julius Cawein
What joy you take in making hotness hotter,
In emphasizing dullness with your buzz,
The Beloved
© Paul Eluard
She is standing on my eyelids
And her hair is wound in mine,
She has the form of my hands,
She has the colour of my eyes,
The Dying Chauffeur
© Rudyard Kipling
Wheel me gently to the garage, since my car and I must part-
No more for me the records and the run.
That cursed left-hand cylinder the doctors call my heart
Is pinking past redemption - I am done!
"Too oft the poet in elaborate verse"
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
Too oft the poet in elaborate verse,
Flushed with quaint images and gorgeous tropes,
To Sensibility
© Helen Maria Williams
In SENSIBILITY'S lov'd praise
I tune my trembling reed,
And seek to deck her shrine with bays,
On which my heart must bleed!
The Voyage To Vinland: Bioern's Beckoners
© James Russell Lowell
Looms there the New Land;
Locked in the shadow
Long the gods shut it,
Niggards of newness
They, the o'er-old.
The Stage-Driver's Story
© Francis Bret Harte
It was the stage-driver's story, as he stood with his back to the
wheelers,
Quietly flecking his whip, and turning his quid of tobacco;
While on the dusty road, and blent with the rays of the moonlight,
We saw the long curl of his lash and the juice of tobacco descending.
The Poor Man's Pig
© Edmund Blunden
Then out he lets her run; away she snorts
In bundling gallop for the cottage door,
With hungry hubbub begging crusts and orts,
Then like the whirlwind bumping round once more;
Nuzzling the dog, making the pullets run,
And sulky as a child when her play's done.
The Young Greek Odalisque
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Mid silken cushions, richly wrought, a young Greek girl reclined,
And fairer form the harems walls had neer before enshrined;
Mid all the young and lovely ones who round her clustered there,
With glowing cheeks and sparkling eyes, she shone supremely fair.
The Night Cometh
© Aline Murray Kilmer
MY garden walks were smooth and green
And edged with box trees left and right,
The Aesthete
© William Schwenck Gilbert
If you're anxious for to shine in the high aesthetic line, as a man
of culture rare,
The Modest Jazz-Bird
© Vachel Lindsay
The Jazz-bird sings a barnyard song
A cock-a-doodle bray,
A jingle-bells, a boiler works,
A he-man's roundelay.
To My Brother
© Hristo Botev
It's difficult to live, my brother,
among such thick-skulled blunderheads;
the fires of my youth are smothered,
my heart is torn to bitter shreds.
To Novella
© Mary Barber
An Epigram
You cry, She's bred in the Old Way;
Then into Laughter fall:
Were she as just to you, she'd say,
You are not bred at all.