Poems begining by T
/ page 362 of 916 /The Soldier's Christmas Eve
© Anonymous
In a southern forest gloomy and old,
So lately the scene of a terrible fight,
The Rape Of Lucrece
© William Shakespeare
TO THE
RIGHT HONORABLE HENRY WRIOTHESLY,
Earl of Southampton, and Baron of Tichfield.
The Birks Of Aberfeldy
© Robert Burns
The little birdies blithely sing,
While o'er their heads the hazels hing;
Or lightly flit on wanton wing
In the birks of Aberfeldie!
Bonnie lassie, will ye go…
The Pimpernel
© Celia Thaxter
SHE walks beside the silent shore,
The tide is high, the breeze is still;
The Dray
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Huge through the darkened street
The Dray comes, rolling an uneven thunder
Of wheels and trampling feet;
The shaken windows stare in sleepy wonder.
The Bee Meeting
© Sylvia Plath
Who are these people at the bridge to meet me? They are the villagers--
The rector, the midwife, the sexton, the agent for bees.
In my sleeveless summery dress I have no protection,
And they are all gloved and covered, why did nobody tell me?
They are smiling and taking out veils tacked to ancient hats.
The Damsel Of Peru
© William Cullen Bryant
Where olive leaves were twinkling in every wind that blew,
There sat beneath the pleasant shade a damsel of Peru.
Betwixt the slender boughs, as they opened to the air,
Came glimpses of her ivory neck and of her glossy hair;
And sweetly rang her silver voice, within that shady nook,
As from the shrubby glen is heard the sound of hidden brook.
The Garden Of Boccaccio
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Still in thy garden let me watch their pranks,
…
With that sly satyr peeping through the leaves !
The Opal Month
© Virna Sheard
Now cometh October--a nut-brown maid,
Who in robes of crimson and gold arrayed
Hath taken the king's highway!
On the world she smiles--but to me it seems
Her eyes are misty with mid-summer dreams,
Or memories of the May.
Tallulah Falls
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
ALONE with nature, where her passionate mood
Deepens and deepens, till from shadowy wood,
And sombre shore the blended voices sound
Of five infuriate torrents, wanly crowned
With such pale-misted foam as that which starts
To whitening lips from frenzied human hearts!
The Other Fathers by Lyn Lifshin : American Life in Poetry #251 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-
© Ted Kooser
The poet Lyn Lifshin, who divides her time between New York and Virginia, is one of the most prolific poets among my contemporaries, and has thousands of poems in print, by my loose reckoning. I have been reading her work in literary magazines for at least thirty years. Here’s a good example of this poet at her best.
The Progress of Error
© William Cowper
Sing, muse (if such a theme, so dark, so long
May find a muse to grace it with a song),
The Comrades
© Katharine Tynan
The angels walk with men in the red ruin and rain,
White and gold, as of old, without spot or stain.
Our warriors fought and died, the white lords by their side.
The angels walk with men.
The Wind
© Emile Verhaeren
Each bucket of iron at the wells of the farmyards,
Each bucket and pulley, it creaks and it wails;
By cisterns of farmyards, the pulleys and pails
They creak and they cry,
The whole of sad death in their melancholy.
The Song Of Hiawatha XX: The Famine
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Oh the long and dreary Winter!
Oh the cold and cruel Winter!
The Door (I)
© Robert Creeley
It is hard going to the door
cut so small in the wall where
the vision which echoes loneliness
brings a scent of wild flowers in a wood.
The Problem
© John Greenleaf Whittier
I.
NOT without envy Wealth at times must look
On their brown strength who wield the reaping-hook."
And scythe, or at the forge-fire shape the plough
The Blossoms On The Trees
© James Whitcomb Riley
Blossoms crimson, white, or blue,
Purple, pink, and every hue,
The Guest - Sonnet
© Sri Aurobindo
I have discovered my deep deathless being:
Masked by my front of mind, immense, serene
It meets the world with an Immortal's seeing,
A god-spectator of the human scene.