Poems begining by T
/ page 471 of 916 /The French Revolution as it appeared to Enthusiasts
© William Wordsworth
. Oh! pleasant exercise of hope and joy!
For mighty were the auxiliars which then stood
“Teach Us to Number Our Days”
© Rita Dove
In the old neighborhood, each funeral parlor
is more elaborate than the last.
The alleys smell of cops, pistols bumping their thighs,
each chamber steeled with a slim blue bullet.
The Alpaca
© Jim Carroll
She is harnessed for a long journey; on her back she carries an entire store of wool.
She walks without rest, and sees with eyes full of strangeness. The wool merchant has forgotten to come to get her, and she is ready.
In this world, nothing comes better equipped than the alpaca; ones is more burdened with rags than the next. Her sky-high softness is such that if a newborn is placed on her back, he will not feel a bone of the animal.
The weather is very hot. Today, large scissors that will cut and cut represent mercy for the alpaca.
The Splendour Falls
© Alfred Tennyson
The splendour falls on castle walls
And snowy summits old in story:
The long light shakes across the lakes
And the wild cataract leaps in glory.
Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,
Blow, bugle; answer, echoes dying, dying, dying.
The Minister of Culture Gets His Wish
© Mark Strand
The Minister of Culture goes home after a grueling day at the office
Thro Grief And Thro Danger
© Thomas Moore
THRO grief and thro danger thy smile hath cheerd my way,
Till hope seemd to bud from each thorn that round me lay;
The Look
© Sara Teasdale
Strephon kissed me in the spring,
Robin in the fall,
But Colin only looked at me
And never kissed at all.
They are hostile nations
© Margaret Atwood
In view of the fading animals
the proliferation of sewers and fears
the sea clogging, the air
nearing extinction
The Philosophic Pill
© William Schwenck Gilbert
I've wisdom from the East and from the West,
That's subject to no academic rule;
Two Robbers
© Francis William Bourdillon
When Death from some fair face
Is stealing life away,
All weep, save she, the grace
That earth shall lose today.
The Bounty
© Derek Walcott
Between the vision of the Tourist Board and the true
Paradise lies the desert where Isaiah’s elations
force a rose from the sand. The thirty-third canto
The Jester
© Margaret Widdemer
I dance where in the screaming market-place
The dusty world that watches buys and sells,
With painted merriment upon my face,
Whirling my bells,
Thrusting my sad soul to its mockery.
The Girl
© Boris Pasternak
From the swing, from the garden, helter-skelter,
A twig runs up to the glass.
Enormous, close, with a drop of emerald
At the tip of the cluster cast.
The Song of the Birds
© Pierre Reverdy
At the sight of
the great light dawning
in that glad night,
small birds come singing
to celebrate him
with their sweet voices.
The Vacuum
© Howard Nemerov
The house is so quiet now
The vacuum cleaner sulks in the corner closet,
Its bag limp as a stopped lung, its mouth
Grinning into the floor, maybe at my
Slovenly life, my dog-dead youth.
To The Lady Dursley
© Matthew Prior
Here reading how fond Adam was betray'd,
And how by sin Eve's blasted charms decay'd,
Our common loss unjustly you complain,
So small that part of it which you sustain.
The Elements of San Joaquin
© Gary Soto
The wind sprays pale dirt into my mouth
The small, almost invisible scars
On my hands.
The Death of Allegory
© Billy Collins
I am wondering what became of all those tall abstractions
that used to pose, robed and statuesque, in paintings
and parade about on the pages of the Renaissance
displaying their capital letters like license plates.
To Marguerite: Continued
© Matthew Arnold
Yes! in the sea of life enisled,
With echoing straits between us thrown,
Dotting the shoreless watery wild,
We mortal millions live alone.
The islands feel the enclasping flow,
And then their endless bounds they know.