Poems begining by T
/ page 472 of 916 /
The Letter
© Dana Gioia
And in the end, all that is really left
Is a feeling—strong and unavoidable—
The End
© Edith Nesbit
ADIEU, Madame! The moon of May
Wanes now above the orchard grey;
The white May-blossoms fall like snow,
As Love foretold a month ago--
Or was it only yesterday?
The Card-Dealer
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Could you not drink her gaze like wine?
Yet though its splendour swoon
The Shepheardes Calender: January
© Edmund Spenser
A Shepeheards boye (no better doe him call)
when Winters wastful spight was almost spent,
All in a sunneshine day, as did befall,
Led forth his flock, that had been long ypent.
So faynt they woxe, and feeble in the folde,
That now vnnethes their feete could them vphold.
The Sea Spirit
© Madison Julius Cawein
Ah me! I shall not waken soon
From dreams of such divinity!
A spirit singing 'neath the moon
To me.
The Day is a Poem
© Robinson Jeffers
(September 19, 1939)
This morning Hitler spoke in Danzig, we heard his voice.
Tenderness and Rot
© Kay Ryan
Tenderness and rot
share a border.
And rot is an
aggressive neighbor
whose iridescence
keeps creeping over.
The Room in Which My First Child Slept
© Eavan Boland
After a while I thought of it this way:
It was a town underneath a mountain
The Birch Tree
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Touched with beauty, I stand still and gaze
In the autumn twilight. Yellow leaves and brown
The grass enriching, gleam, or waver down
From lime and elm: far--glimmering through the haze
The quiet lamps in order twinkle; dumb
And fair the park lies; faint the city's hum.
The Great Pax Whitie
© Nikki Giovanni
The genesis was life
The genesis was death
In the genesis of death
Was the genesis of war
be still peace be still
To the Cuckoo
© André Breton
O blithe New-comer! I have heard,
I hear thee and rejoice.
O Cuckoo! shall I call thee Bird,
Or but a wandering Voice?
Twenty-third
© Christina Pugh
And at the picnic table under the ancient elms,
one of my parents turned to me and said:
The Lover And The Moon
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
A LOVER whom duty called over the wave,
With himself communed: "Will my love be true
To the States,
© Walt Whitman
To Identify the 16th, 17th, or 18th Presidentiad.
Why reclining, interrogating? why myself and all drowsing?
The Messenger
© Hugo Williams
The messenger runs, not carrying the news
of victory, or defeat; the messenger, unresting,
To Miss Jessie Lewars
© Robert Burns
The sun lies clasped in amber cloud
Half hidden in the sea,
And o'er the sands the flowing tide
Comes racing merrilee.
The Poets
© Archibald Lampman
Half brutish, half divine, but all of earth,
Half-way 'twixt hell and heaven, near to man,
The whole world's tangle gathered in one span,
Full of this human torture and this mirth:
Life with its hope and error, toil and bliss,
Earth-born, earth-reared, ye know it as it is.
The House of Time
© Stephen Edgar
And fleetingly it seemed to him
That in between one eye blink and the next
The Day of Wrath / Dies Iræ
© Ambrose Bierce
Day of Satan's painful duty!
Earth shall vanish, hot and sooty;
So says Virtue, so says Beauty.
