Poems begining by T
/ page 619 of 916 /The Minstrel.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Within our festal halls!"
Thus spake the king, the page out-hied;
The boy return'd; the monarch cried:
The Frogs.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
No longer dared to croak or spring;
But promised, being half asleep,
If suffer'd to the air to creep,
The Rat-catcher.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
I AM the bard known far and wide,
The travell'd rat-catcher beside;
A man most needful to this town,
So glorious through its old renown.
The Beautiful Night.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Now I leave this cottage lowly,Where my love hath made her home,
And with silent footstep slowlyThrough the darksome forest roam,
Luna breaks through oaks and bushes,Zephyr hastes her steps to meet,
And the waving birch-tree blushes,Scattering round her incense sweet.Grateful are the cooling breezesOf this beauteous summer night,
The Day of Hope
© Shams al-Din Hafiz
THE days of absence and the bitter nights
Of separation, all are at an end!
Where is the influence of the star that blights
My hope? The omen answers: At an end!
The Bat
© James Whitcomb Riley
Thou dread, uncanny thing,
With fuzzy breast and leathern wing,
In mad, zigzagging flight,
Notching the dusk, and buffeting
The black cheeks of the night,
With grim delight!
The Wedding Night.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
WITHIN the chamber, far awayFrom the glad feast, sits Love in dread
Lest guests disturb, in wanton play,The silence of the bridal bed.
His torch's pale flame serves to gildThe scene with mystic sacred glow;
The room with incense-clouds is fil'd,That ye may perfect rapture know.How beats thy heart, when thou dost hearThe chime that warns thy guests to fly!
The Goldsmith's Apprentice.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
My neighbour, none can e'er deny,Is a most beauteous maid;
Her shop is ever in mine eye,When working at my trade.To ring and chain I hammer thenThe wire of gold assay'd,
And think the while: "For Kate, oh whenWill such a ring be made?"And when she takes her shutters down,Her shop at once invade,
To buy and haggle, all the town,For all that's there displayd.I file, and maybe overfileThe wire of gold assay'd;
The Violet.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
In truth, a violet fair.
Then came a youthful shepherdess,
And roam'd with sprightly joyousness,
And blithely woo'd
The Brethren.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
SLUMBER and Sleep, two brethren ordain'd by the gods to their
service,
The Glory And The Dream
© Madison Julius Cawein
There in the past I see her as of old,
Blue-eyed and hazel-haired, within a room
The Three Monuments
© William Butler Yeats
THEY hold their public meetings where
Our most renowned patriots stand,
The Sky-Larks Song
© Augusta Davies Webster
WINGED voice to tell the skies of earth,
Dear earth-born lark, sing on, sing clear,
Sing into heaven that she may hear
;Sing what thou wilt, so she but know
Thine ecstasy of summer mirth
And think "'Tis from the world below!"
The Bride Of Corinth.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
[First published in Schiller's Horen, in connection
with a
friendly contest in the art of ballad-writing between the two
great poets, to which many of their finest works are owing.]
The Dungeon
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
And this place our forefathers made for man!
This is the process of our Love and Wisdom,
To each poor brother who offends against us--
Most innocent, perhaps--and what if guilty?
The Wanderer.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
[Published in the Gottingen Musen Almanach,
having been written "to express his feelings and caprices" after
his separation from Frederica.]
Three Odes To My Friend.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
[These three Odes are addressed to a certain
Behrisch, who was tutor to Count Lindenau, and of whom Goethe gives
an odd account at the end of the Seventh Book of his Autobiography.]
The Farewell.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
[Probably addressed to his mistress Frederica.]LET mine eye the farewell say,That my lips can utter ne'er;
Fain I'd be a man to-day,Yet 'tis hard, oh, hard to bear!Mournful in an hour like thisIs love's sweetest pledge, I ween;
Cold upon thy mouth the kiss,Faint thy fingers' pressure e'en.Oh what rapture to my heartUsed each stolen kiss to bring!
As the violets joy impart,Gather'd in the early spring.Now no garlands I entwine,Now no roses pluck. for thee,
The Boundaries Of Humanity.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Small is the ring
Enclosing our life,
And whole generations
Link themselves firmly
On to existence's
Chain never-ending.