Poems begining by T
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The Comedian As The Letter C: 04 - The Idea Of A Colony
© Wallace Stevens
Trinket pasticcio, flaunting skyey sheets,
With Crispin as the tiptoe cozener?
No, no: veracious page on page, exact.
The Holy Innocents
© John Keble
Say, ye celestial guards, who wait
In Bethlehem, round the Saviour's palace gate,
To Time
© George Gordon Byron
Time! on whose arbitrary wing
The varying hours must flag or fly,
Whose tardy winter, fleeting spring,
But drag or drive us on to die--
The Doom Of Ys
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
DO you hear the bell? 'Tis a silver chime
But it ringeth not in the bourne of time.
To the dead in the grave-yard under my window
© Adelaide Crapsey
How can you lie so still? All day I watch
And never a blade of all the green sod moves
To An Old Quill Of Lord Dunsany's
© Francis Ledwidge
Before you leave my hands' abuses
To lie where many odd things meet you,
Neglected darkling of the Muses,
I, the last of singers, greet you.
The English Way
© Rudyard Kipling
After the fight at Otterburn,
Before the ravens came,
The Witch-wife rode across the fern
And spoke Earl Percy's name.
The Farmer's Boy - Spring
© Robert Bloomfield
Down, indignation! hence, ideas foul!
Away the shocking image from my soul!
Let kindlier visitants attend my way,
Beneath approaching _Summer's_ fervid ray;
Nor thankless glooms obtrude, nor cares annoy,
Whilst the sweet theme is _universal joy_.
To Harriet
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Thy look of love has power to calm
The stormiest passion of my soul;
Thy gentle words are drops of balm
In life's too bitter bowl;
No grief is mine, but that alone
These choicest blessings I have known.
To Mrs. Professor In Defense Of My Cat's Honor And Not Only
© Czeslaw Milosz
My valiant helper, a small-sized tiger
Sleeps sweetly on my desk, by the computer,
Unaware that you insult his tribe.
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part III: Gods And False Gods: LXXIV
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
THE MOCKERY OF LIFE
God! What a mockery is this life of ours!
Cast forth in blood and pain from our mother's womb,
Most like an excrement, and weeping showers
The Spilling Of The Wine
© Lola Ridge
The night has a rare savor.
Out of the snow-pilesaltar-high and colored as by a
rosy sacrifice Scented vapor
Ascends in a pale incense . . .
Faint astringent perfume
Of blood and wine.
The Electric Tram To Kew
© Lesbia Harford
Through the swift night
I go to my love.
Tram bells are joy bells,
Bidding us move
The Shipwrecked Sailor
© Harry Kemp
There blossomed into golden day another rosy morn:
The ship-wrecked sailor woke, and watched again, of hope forlorn,
From his high, purple-misted peak, a rag about his hip:
His only dream, his native land - his only prayer, a ship!
The Dream Of Christ
© Madison Julius Cawein
I saw her twins of eyelids listless swoon
Mesmeric eyes,
Like the mild lapsing of a lulling tune
On wide surprise,
While slow the graceful presence of a moon
Mellowed the purple skies.
The Testimony Of Divine Adoption
© William Cowper
How happy are the newborn race,
Partakers of adopting grace!
How pure the bliss they share!
Hid from the world and all its eyes,
Within their heart the blessing lies,
And conscience feels it there.
To Octavia, the Infant Daughter of the Late John Larking, esq.
© Alaric Alexander Watts
Full many a gloomy month hath passed,
On flagging wing, regardless by,
Tu Voz Profetica
© Ramon Lopez Velarde
Juran por Cristo, venerables dueñas,
De quien llora en el vientre de la madre
Conoce del futuro; tú gemiste
Antes de que nacieras, y por eso
Tus artes de gitana me iluminan
En los discursos de tu voz profética.
The Tarbolton Lasses
© Robert Burns
If ye gae up to yon hill-tap,
Ye'll there see bonie Peggy;
She kens her father is a laird,
And she forsooth's a leddy.
