Poems begining by T
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The Battle Of Agincourt
© Michael Drayton
Fair stood the wind for France
When we our sails advance,
Nor now to prove our chance
Longer will tarry;
The Coquette
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Alone she sat with her accusing heart,
That, like a restless comrade frightened sleep,
And every thought that found her, left a dart
That hurt her so, she could not even weep.
The Advice
© Thomas Chatterton
Tho' poor Pitholeon's feeble line,
In opposition to the nine,
Still violates your name;
Tho' tales of passion meanly told,
As dull as Cumberland, as cold,
Strive to confess a flame.
The City Of Choan
© Ezra Pound
The Three Mountains fall through the far heaven,
The isle of White Heron
splits the two streams apart.
Now the high clouds cover the sun
And I can not see Choan afar
And I am sad.
The Temple
© Kenneth Patchen
To leave the earth was my wish, and no will stayed my rising.
Early, before sun had filled the roads with carts
Conveying folk to weddings and to murders;
Before men left their selves of sleep, to wander
In the dark of the world like whipped beasts.
The Late W. V. Wild, Esq.
© Henry Kendall
SAD FACES came round, and I dreamily said
Though the harp of my country now slumbers,
To Put One Brick Upon Another
© Philip Larkin
To put one brick upon another,
Add a third and then a forth,
Leaves no time to wonder whether
What you do has any worth.
There Are Not Many Kingdoms Left
© Kenneth Patchen
For her bed I write a stillness over all the swans of the
world. With the morning breath of the snow leopard I
cover her against any hurt.
The Artist's Duty
© Kenneth Patchen
To verify the irrational
To exaggerate all things
To inhibit everyone
To lubricate each proportion
To experience only experience
The Orange Bears
© Kenneth Patchen
I remember you would put daisies
On the windowsill at night and in
The morning they'd be so covered with soot
You couldn't tell what they were anymore.
Teignmouth: "Some Doggerel," Sent In A Letter To B. R. Haydon
© John Keats
I.
Here all the summer could I stay,
For there's Bishop's teign
And King's teign
The Slums
© Kenneth Patchen
That should be obvious
Of course it won't
Any fool knows that.
Even in the winter.
The Hangman's Great Hands
© Kenneth Patchen
And all that is this day. . .
The boy with cap slung over what had been a face. .. Somehow the cop will sleep tonight, will make love to his
wife...
Anger won't help. I was born angry. Angry that my father was
The Nocturne: Address to the Sunset
© Robert Nichols
Exquisite stillness! What serenities
Of earth and air! How bright atop the wall
The ravings which my enemy uttered I heard within my heart
© Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
The ravings which my enemy uttered I heard within my heart;
the secret thoughts he harbored against me I also perceived.
His dog bit my foot, he showed me much injustice; I do not
bite him like a dog, I have bitten my own lip.
The Moment
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Lose me, full, full moment,
Like a ripple round,
Widening into worlds
Beyond earth's bound.
The Jackdaw Of Rheims
© Richard Harris Barham
The Jackdaw sat on the Cardinal's chair!
Bishop, and abbot, and prior were there;
To Cardinal Manning
© George Meredith
I, wakeful for the skylark voice in men,
Or straining for the angel of the light,
The Old Wooden Cradle
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Good-bye to the cradle, the dear wooden cradle
The rude hand of Progress has thrust it aside.
No more to its motion o'er sleep's fairy ocean,
Our play-weary wayfarers peacefully glide.
