Poems begining by T

/ page 642 of 916 /

Order by :

1
. . .
637
638
639
640
641
642
643
644
645
646
647
. . .
916

The Tear

© Lord Byron

When Friendship or Love
Our sympathies move;
When Truth, in a glance, should appear,
The lips may beguile,
With a dimple or smile,
But the test of affection's a Tear:

The Owl Describing Her Young Ones

© Anne Kingsmill Finch

Why was that baleful Creature made,
Which seeks our Quiet to invade,
And screams ill Omens through the Shade?

To Thyrza: And Thou Art Dead

© Lord Byron

And thou art dead, as young and fair
As aught of mortal birth;
And form so soft and charm so rare
Too soon returned to Earth!

The Shrouding Of The Duchess Of Malfi

© John Webster

Hark! Now everything is still,
The screech-owl and the whistler shrill,
Call upon our dame aloud,
And bid her quickly don her shroud!

Twenty-One Love Poems (The Floating Poem, Unnumbered)

To Thomas Moore

© Lord Byron

My boat is on the shore,
And my bark is on the sea;
But, before I go, Tom Moore,
Here's a double health to thee!

The Snowman on the Moor

© Sylvia Plath

Stalemated their armies stood, with tottering banners:
She flung from a room
Still ringing with bruit of insults and dishonors

There Be None of Beauty's Daughters

© Lord Byron

There be none of Beauty's daughters
With a magic like Thee;
And like music on the waters
Is thy sweet voice to me:

To Dylan Thomas

© Eli Siegel

I hope that where you are
(I think so, too)
People, including literary people,
Will see you more as you were;

The Slave Boy's Wish

© Anonymous

I wish I was that little bird,

Up in the bright blue sky,

The Dream

© Lord Byron

My dream is past; it had no further change.
It was of a strange order, that the doom
Of these two creatures should be thus traced out
Almost like a realitythe one
To end in madnessboth in misery.

The Destruction Of Sennacherib

The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,
And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold;
And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea,
When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.

To the King's Most Excellent Majesty, 1768

Your subjects hope, dread Sire-

The crown upon your brows may flourish long,

The Shoemakers

Ho! workers of the old time styled
The Gentle Craft of Leather!
Young brothers of the ancient guild,
Stand forth once more together!

That Kiss

Fortune teller that I AM,
My crystal ball sees ALL.
Clairvoyant, the man's libido is flamBOYant.
I SEE: ANIMAL MAGNETISM.
Inside of THAT KISS will be bliss.