Poems begining by T
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"Though I had lost my love"
© Lesbia Harford
Though I had lost my love,
The hills could calm me.
Deep in a woodland grove
No loss could harm me.
The Princess: A Medley: Tears, Idle Tears
© Alfred Tennyson
Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,
Tears from the depth of some divine despair
Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,
In looking on the happy Autumn-fields,
And thinking of the days that are no more.
The Chief
© William Ernest Henley
His brow spreads large and placid, and his eye
Is deep and bright, with steady looks that still.
The Plain
© Jean Hans Arp
The plain was flawlessly paved.
Nothing, absolutely nothing but the chair and I
were there.
The Mountain Maid
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Half seated on a mossy crag,
Half crouching in the heather;
They Look At Us
© Eli Siegel
Martin Luther King
Is with John Brown.
Look up: you'll see them both
Looking down
Deep and so wide
At us.
The Mother Who Died Too
© Edith Matilda Thomas
SHE was so littlelittle in her grave,
The wide earth all around so hard and cold
The Breasts of Mnasidice
© Pierre Louys
Carefully she opened her tunic with one
hand and offered me her warm soft breasts as
one offers a pair of living pigeons to the
goddess. 'Love them well,' she said to me,
To The Returned Girls
© Franklin Pierce Adams
Will you read my little pome,
O you girls returnéd home
From a summertime of sport
At the Jolliest Resort,
From a Heated Term of joys
Far from urban dust and noise?
The Beggar Speaks
© Vachel Lindsay
Come, eat the bread of idleness,
Come, sit beside the spring:
Some of the flowers will keep awake,
Some of the birds will sing.
The Tent On The Beach
© John Greenleaf Whittier
I would not sin, in this half-playful strain,--
Too light perhaps for serious years, though born
To Lady Annabella Noel
© Frances Anne Kemble
Wand'ring with thee in the delicious land,
What visions meet me of those far-off years,
To A Mouse, (The best Laid Schemes O' Mice An' Men)
© Robert Burns
Wee, sleeket, cowrin, tim'rous beastie,
Oh, what a panic's in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty
Wi' bickerin brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee
Wi' murd'ring pattle!
The Prayer-Seeker
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Along the aisle where prayer was made,
A woman, all in black arrayed,
The Pleasures of Imagination: Book The First
© Mark Akenside
With what attractive charms this goodly frame
Of nature touches the consenting hearts
The Diamond
© Hilaire Belloc
This diamond, Juliet, will adorn
Ephemeral beauties yet unborn.
While my strong verse, for ever new,
Shall still adorn immortal you.
The Taste of Morning
© Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
Being closer and closer is the desire
of the body. Don't wish for union!
To The Head-Ach
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
THOU tyrant of the ling'ring hour!
Ah, why with me delight to rest?
Hence far away, tormenting pow'r
Unwelcome guest!
