Poems begining by T
/ page 515 of 916 /
The Idlers Calendar. Twelve Sonnets For The Months. September
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
FEAST OF ST. PARTRIDGE
The only saint in all our calendar
Is good St. Partridge. 'Tis his feast to--day,
The happiest day of all a happy year,
The Soul Of The Anzac
© Roderic Quinn
THE form that was mine was brown and hard,
And thewed and muscled, and tall and straight;
To the Shade of Burns
© Charlotte Turner Smith
Mute is thy wild harp, now, O Bard sublime!
Who, amid Scotia’s mountain solitude,
The Baby
© Ezra Pound
The baby new to earth and sky
Has never until now
Unto himself the question put
Or asked us if the cow
The Snowmass Cycle
© Stephen Dunn
If the rich are casually cruel
perhaps its because
they can stare at the sky
and never see an indictment
in the shape of clouds.
The animals in that country
© Margaret Atwood
the fox run
politely to earth, the huntsmen
standing around him, fixed
in their tapestry of manners
The Yarn of the Nancy Bell
© William Schwenck Gilbert
'Twas on the shores that round our coast
From Deal to Ramsgate span,
That I found alone on a piece of stone
An elderly naval man.
The Dream
© Caroline Norton
Ah! bless'd are they for whom 'mid all their pains
That faithful and unalter'd love remains;
Who, Life wreck'd round them,--hunted from their rest,--
And, by all else forsaken or distress'd,--
Claim, in one heart, their sanctuary and shrine--
As I, my Mother, claim'd my place in thine!
The Memory of Elena
© Carolyn Forche
In Buenos Aires only three
years ago, it was the last time his hand
slipped into her dress, with pearls
cooling her throat and bells like
these, chipping at the night—
The Beauty of Things
© Robinson Jeffers
To feel and speak the astonishing beauty of thingsearth, stone and water,
Beast, man and woman, sun, moon and stars
The Dream of Freedom
© Owen Suffolk
'Twas night, and the moonbeams palely fell
On the gloomy walls of a cheerless cell,
The Pillar of Fame
© Robert Herrick
Fame’s pillar here at last we set,
Out-during marble, brass or jet;
Torment
© Daisy Fried
“I fucked up bad”: Justin cracks his neck,
talking to nobody. Fifteen responsible children,
The Blind Slave Boy
© Anonymous
Come back to me, mother! why linger away
From thy poor little blind boy, the long weary day!
The Winding Stair
© William Butler Yeats
My Soul. I summon to the winding ancient stair;
Set all your mind upon the steep ascent,
The African Prince
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
IT was a king in Africa,
He had an only son;
And none of Europe's crowned kings
Could have a dearer one.
The Resolution
© Mary Barber
The Favours of Fortune I once hop'd to gain,
And often invok'd her, but ever in vain.
She despis'd my Addresses, which gave me such Grief,
I flew to the Muses, in Hopes of Relief.
Tristram And Iseult
© Matthew Arnold
Tristram. Is she not come? The messenger was sure
Prop me upon the pillows once again
Raise me, my page! this cannot long endure.
Christ, what a night! how the sleet whips the pane!
What lights will those out to the northward be?
The Heart Of Joy
© Edith Nesbit
Wide is the world, and so many would sigh for you,
Long for and cry for you,
Weep for and die for you,
You being you.
The Harp
© Aline Murray Kilmer
I HAVE a harp of many strings
But two are enough for me:
One is for love and one for death;
And what would the third one be?
