Poems begining by T
/ page 660 of 916 /The Fear
© Robert Frost
A lantern light from deeper in the barn
Shone on a man and woman in the door
And threw their lurching shadows on a house
Near by, all dark in every glossy window.
The Covenant
© Rudyard Kipling
Yet there remains His Mercy-to be sought
Through wrath and peril till we cleanse the wrong
By that last right which our forefathers claimed
When their Law failed them and its stewards were bought.
This is our cause. God help us, and make strong
Our will to meet Him later, unashamed!
The Sacrifice Of Iphigenia
© Aeschylus
Now long and long from wintry Strymon blew
The weary, hungry, anchor-straining blasts,
The Old Maid
© Sara Teasdale
Her body was a thing grown thin,
Hungry for love that never came;
Her soul was frozen in the dark,
Unwarmed forever by love's flame.
The Faerie Qveene
© Edmund Spenser
Me thought I saw the grave where she lay
Within that Temple, where the vestal flame
To The Men Of Kent
© William Wordsworth
OCTOBER 1803
VANGUARD of Liberty, ye men of Kent,
Ye children of a Soil that doth advance
Her haughty brow against the coast of France,
Two Look at Two
© Robert Frost
Love and forgetting might have carried them
A little further up the mountain side
With night so near, but not much further up.
They must have halted soon in any case
The Last Word of a Blue Bird
© Robert Frost
As told to a child
As I went out a Crow
In a low voice said, "Oh,
I was looking for you.
To Mary ----
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
O Mary dear, that you were here
With your brown eyes bright and clear.
And your sweet voice, like a bird
Singing love to its lone mate
The Hindoo Girls Song
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
FLOAT onfloat onmy haunted bark,
Above the midnight tide;
Bear softly o'er the waters dark
The hopes that with thee glide.
The Runaway
© Robert Frost
Once when the snow of the year was beginning to fall,
We stopped by a mountain pasture to say 'Whose colt?'
A little Morgan had one forefoot on the wall,
The other curled at his breast. He dipped his head
The Oven Bird
© Robert Frost
There is a singer everyone has heard,
Loud, a mid-summer and a mid-wood bird,
Who makes the solid tree trunks sound again.
He says that leaves are old and that for flowers
The Spring Running
© Rudyard Kipling
Man goes to Man! Cry the challenge through the Jungle!
He that was our Brother goes away.
Hear, now, and judge, O ye People of the Jungle-
Answer, who can turn him-who shall stay?
The Breaking Point
© Stephen Vincent Benet
And I began to think . . .
Ah, well,
What matter how I slipped and fell?
Or you, you gutter-searcher say!
Tell where you found me yesterday!
The Ingrate
© John Crowe Ransom
BY night we looked across my field,
The tasseled corn was fine to see,
The Aim was Song
© Robert Frost
Before man came to blow it right
The wind once blew itself untaught,
And did its loudest day and night
In any rough place where it caught.
The Struggle
© Hristo Botev
In sorrow youth passes, in sorrows and pains,
Angrily boils the blood in the veins;
Lowering brows - the mind cannot see,
Is it good or evil that is to be.
The Fall Of The Leaves
© Henry Van Dyke
I
In warlike pomp, with banners flowing,
The regiments of autumn stood:
I saw their gold and scarlet glowing
From every hillside, every wood.
To A Derelict
© Robert Laurence Binyon
O travelled far beyond unhappiness
Into a dreadful peace!
Why tarriest thou here? The street is bright
With noon; the music of the tidal sound