Poems begining by T
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To Mrs. Caesar, At The Speaker's Lodgings At Bath.
© Mary Barber
When lately you acquitted me,
With Carteret I din'd;
And, in Return, (tho' grievous) thee
To Onslow I resign'd.
The Two Prayers
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
And new alarm I found did some sharp cry
Come from the street, or did a foot pass by
Swift in its going. All did threaten him.
Hear me, O Lord, who sip at sorrow's brim.
Take thou these eyes, these ears, this strength, this breath.
All that he hath not, who hath tasted death."
Testament
© Dorothy Parker
Kinder the busy worms than ever love;
It will be peace to lie there, empty-eyed,
My bed made secret by the leveling showers,
My breast replenishing the weeds above.
And you will say of me, "Then has she died?
Perhaps I should have sent a spray of flowers."
The Song Of The Highest Tower
© Arthur Rimbaud
I told myself: wait
And let no one see:
And without the promise
Of true ecstasy.
Let nothing delay
This hiding away.
The Wind
© Robert Louis Stevenson
I saw you toss the kites on high
And blow the birds about the sky;
And all around I heard you pass,
Like ladies' skirts across the grass-
O wind, a-blowing all day long,
O wind, that sings so loud a song!
The Rivals
© James Weldon Johnson
So I said, "Lize, w'en we marry, mus' I weah some sto'-bought clo'es?"
She says, "Jeans is good enough fu' any po' folks, heaben knows!"
The Wind Chimes by Shirley Buettner: American Life in Poetry #37 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004
© Ted Kooser
Painful separations, through divorce, through death, through alienation, sometimes cause us to focus on the objects around us, often invested with sentiment. Here's Shirley Buettner, having packed up what's left of a relationship.
The Dwellings Of Our Dead.
© Arthur Henry Adams
THEY lie unwatched, in waste and vacant places,
In sombre bush or wind-swept tussock spaces,
Where seldom human tread
And never human trace is
The Bird's Bargain
© Katharine Tynan
'O spare my cherries in the net,'
Brother Benignus prayed; 'and I
Summer and winter, shine and wet,
Will pile the blackbirds' table high.'
The Kings
© Louise Imogen Guiney
A man said unto his Angel:
"My spirits are fallen low,
And I cannot carry this battle:
O brother! where might I go?
The Joy if Church Fellowship Rightly Attended
© Edward Taylor
In heaven soaring up, I dropped an ear
On earth: and Oh, sweet melody:
And listening, found it was the saints who were
Encroached for Heaven that sang for joy.
For in Christ's coach they sweetly sing,
As they to glory ride therein.
The Foe
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
My foe did strike me, Lord, I am not meek,
I cannot turn to him the other cheek,
The Truce of Piscataqua
© John Greenleaf Whittier
"Let your ears be opened wide!
He who speaks has never lied.
Waldron of Piscataqua,
Hear what Squando has to say!
To Poesy
© Charles Harpur
Ah, misery! what were then my lot
Amongst a race of unbelievers
Sordid men who all declare
That earthly gain alone is fair,
And they who pore on bardic lore
Deceived deceivers.
Teaching From The Stars
© Jane Taylor
Stars, that on your wondrous way
Travel through the evening sky,
Is there nothing you can say
To such a little child as I?
Tell me, for I long to know,
Who has made you sparkle so?
