Poems begining by T
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The Send-Off
© Wilfred Owen
Down the close, darkening lanes they sang their way
To the siding-shed,
And lined the train with faces grimly gay.
To Mr. Vaughan, Silurist on His Poems
© Katherine Philips
Had I ador'd the multitude, and thence
Got an antipathy to wit and sence,
And hug'd that fate, in hope the world would grant
'Twas good -- affection to be ignorant;
To Mrs. M. A. at Parting
© Katherine Philips
I Have examin'd and do find,
Of all that favour me
There's none I grieve to leave behind
But only only thee.
To part with thee I needs must die,
Could parting sep'rate thee and I.
To My Antenor
© Katherine Philips
My dear Antenor now give o're,
For my sake talk of Graves no more;
Death is not in our power to gain,
And is both wish'd and fear'd in vain
To my dear Sister, Mrs. C. P. on her Nuptial
© Katherine Philips
We will not like those men our offerings pay
Who crown the cup, then think they crown the day.
We make no garlands, nor an altar build,
Which help not Joy, but Ostentation yield.
Where mirth is justly grounded these wild toyes
Are but a troublesome, and empty noise.
To One Persuading A Lady To Marriage
© Katherine Philips
Forbear, bold youth; all 's heaven here,
And what you do aver
To others courtship may appear,
'Tis sacrilege to her.
The Three Quiet Gentlemen
© Henry Lawson
There is a quiet gentleman a-motoring in France
(Oh, dont you hear the honking of a British motor-car?)
To Myrtilla
© Franklin Pierce Adams
Twelve fleeting years ago my Myrt,
(Ehu fugaces! maybe more)
I wrote of the directoire skirt
You wore.
The World
© Katherine Philips
Wee falsely think it due unto our friends,
That we should grieve for their too early ends:
He that surveys the world with serious eys,
And stripps Her from her grosse and weak disguise,
The Poles
© Paul Celan
The Poles
are within us,
insurmountable
while Awake,
we sleep across, to the Gate
of Mercy,
The Debate Between Villon And His Heart
© Francois Villon
Who's that I hear?It's meWho?Your heart
Hanging on by the thinnest thread
I lose all my strength, substance, and fluid
When I see you withdrawn this way all alone
The Ballad Of The Hanged Men
© Francois Villon
Of our pain let nobody laugh,
but pray God
would us all absolve.
The Ballad Of The Proverbs
© Francois Villon
Prince, so long as a fool persists, he grows wiser;
so, round the world he goes, but return he will,
so humbled and beaten back into servility.
So loud you cry Christmas, it is here.
The Death Of Grant
© Ambrose Bierce
Father! whose hard and cruel law
Is part of thy compassion's plan,
Thy works presumptuously we scan
For what the prophets say they saw.
The Promise
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
NOT charity we ask,
Nor yet thy gift refuse;
Please thy light fancy with the easy task
Only to look and choose.
To Marguerite
© Ellis Parker Butler
So great my debt to thee, I know my life
Is all too short to pay the least I owe,
And though I live it all in that sweet strife,
Still shall I be insolvent when I go.
To Lovers
© Ellis Parker Butler
Ho, ye lovers, list to me;
Warning words have I for thee:
Give ye heed, hefore ye wed,
To this thing Sir Chaucer said:
