Poems begining by T
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The Demiurge's Laugh
© Robert Frost
It was far in the sameness of the wood;
I was running with joy on the Demon's trail,
Though I knew what I hunted was no true god.
i was just as the light was beginning to fail
That I suddenly head--all I needed to hear:
It has lasted me many and many a year.
The Code
© Robert Frost
There were three in the meadow by the brook
Gathering up windrows, piling cocks of hay,
With an eye always lifted toward the west
Where an irregular sun-bordered cloud
The Bear
© Robert Frost
The bear puts both arms around the tree above her
And draws it down as if it were a lover
And its choke cherries lips to kiss good-bye,
Then lets it snap back upright in the sky.
The Greeting of the Roses
© Hamlin Garland
WE had been long in mountain snow,
In valleys bleak, and broad, and bare,
The Voice Of The Man Impatient With Visions And Utopias
© Vachel Lindsay
We find your soft Utopias as white
As new-cut bread, and dull as life in cells,
Thou Blessed Dream
© Swami Vivekananda
If things go ill or well-
If joy rebounding spreads the face,
Or sea of sorrows swells-
It is a dream, a play.
The Mountains of Mourne
© William Percy French
Oh, Mary, this London's a wonderful sight
With people here working by day and by night
To Earthward
© Robert Frost
Love at the lips was touch
As sweet as I could bear;
And once that seemed too much;
I lived on air
The Suburban Classes
© Stevie Smith
There is far too much of the suburban classes
Spiritually not geographically speaking. Theyre asses.
The Investment
© Robert Frost
Over back where they speak of life as staying
('You couldn't call it living, for it ain't'),
There was an old, old house renewed with paint,
And in it a piano loudly playing.
The Flood
© Robert Frost
Blood has been harder to dam back than water.
Just when we think we have it impounded safe
Behind new barrier walls (and let it chafe!),
It breaks away in some new kind of slaughter.
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 1. The Musician's Tale; The Saga of King Olaf XIX. -- King Olaf's War-
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
"Strike the sails!" King Olaf said;
"Never shall men of mine take flight;
Never away from battle I fled,
Never away from my foes!
Let God dispose
Of my life in the fight!"
The Birthplace
© Robert Frost
Here further up the mountain slope
Than there was every any hope,
My father built, enclosed a spring,
Strung chains of wall round everything,
To Phyllis And May
© Ellis Parker Butler
O! fair, sweet Phyllis and sweet, fair May,
Which of you carried my heart away?
Who has my heart? I would like to know
Which was the guilty one of the two,
But I only know it was filched one day
By fair, sweet Phyllis, or sweet, fair May.
The Wold Vok Dead
© William Barnes
My days, wi' wold vo'k all but gone,
An' childern now a-comèn on,
The War Sonnets: II Safety
© Rupert Brooke
Dear! of all happy in the hour, most blest
He who has found our hid security,
The Garden Of The Sea.
© Arthur Henry Adams
THE infinite garden of the sea is His
To play in. Gravely smiling He resigns
To man his choice this rugged plot of earth,
Watches man tear it with his deep canals,
Tree At My Window
© Robert Frost
Tree at my window, window tree,
My sash is lowered when night comes on;
But let there never be curtain drawn
Between you and me.
The Void
© Charles Baudelaire
Pascal had his Void that went with him day and night.
- Alas! Its all Abyss, - action, longing, dream,
the Word! And I feel Panics storm-wind stream
through my hair, and make it stand upright.
The Tuft of Flowers
© Robert Frost
I went to turn the grass once after one
Who mowed it in the dew before the sun.
The dew was gone that made his blade so keen
Before I came to view the leveled scene.
