Poems begining by T
/ page 670 of 916 /The Black Hawk War of the Artists
© Vachel Lindsay
Power to restore
All that the white hand mars.
See the dead east
Crushed with the iron cars
Chimneys black
Blinding the sun and stars!
The Dover Bitch: A Criticism Of Life
© Anthony Evan Hecht
So there stood Matthew Arnold and this girl
With the cliffs of England crumbling away behind them,
The Empty Boats
© Vachel Lindsay
Why do I see these empty boats, sailing on airy seas?
One haunted me the whole night long, swaying with every breeze,
Returning always near the eaves, or by the skylight glass:
There it will wait me many weeks, and then, at last, will pass.
The Moon's the North Wind's Cooky
© Vachel Lindsay
The Moon's the North Wind's cooky.
He bites it, day by day,
Until there's but a rim of scraps
That crumble all away.
The Settle An The Girt Wood Vire
© William Barnes
Ah! naïghbour John, since I an' you
Wer youngsters, ev'ry thing is new.
The King of Yellow Butterflies
© Vachel Lindsay
(A Poem Game.)
The King of Yellow Butterflies,
The King of Yellow Butterflies,
The King of Yellow Butterflies,
The Cry Eternal
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
To hear this lone and this most stricken call
Of all earth's prayers that pierce the eternal height
And by the closéd doors of Heaven fall
What woman's heart can bear it through the night?
The Leaden-Eyed
© Vachel Lindsay
Let not young souls be smothered out before
They do quaint deeds and fully flaunt their pride.
It is the world's one crime its babes grow dull,
Its poor are ox-like, limp and leaden-eyed.
The Firemen's Ball
© Vachel Lindsay
"Many's the heart that's breaking
If we could read them all
After the ball is over."
The Man In Gray
© Madison Julius Cawein
We live in dreams as well as deeds, in thoughts as well as acts;
And life through things we feel, not know, is realized the most;
The conquered are the conquerors, despite the face of facts,
If they still feel their cause was just who fought for it and lost.
The Unpardonable Sin
© Vachel Lindsay
This is the sin against the Holy Ghost:
To speak of bloody power as right divine,
And call on God to guard each vile chief's house,
And for such chiefs, turn men to wolves and swine:
The Brave Days To Be.
© Arthur Henry Adams
I looked far in the future; down the dim
Echoless avenue of silent years,
And through the cold grey haze of Time I saw
The fair fulfilment of my spacious dream.
Two Old Crows
© Vachel Lindsay
Two old crows sat on a fence rail.
Two old crows sat on a fence rail,
Thinking of effect and cause,
Of weeds and flowers,
Tears
© Robert Fuller Murray
Mourn that which will not come again,
The joy, the strength of early years.
Bow down thy head, and let thy tears
Water the grave where hope lies slain.
The Strength of the Lonely
© Vachel Lindsay
The moon's a monk, unmated,
Who walks his cell, the sky.
His strength is that of heaven-vowed men
Who all life's flames defy.
Temagami
© Archibald Lampman
Far in the grim Northwest beyond the lines
That turn the rivers eastward to the sea,
Set with a thousand islands, crowned with pines,
Lies the deep water, wild Temagami:
The Adieu
© George Gordon Byron
Written Under The Impression That The Author Would Soon Die.
Adieu, thou Hill! where early joy
Spread roses o'er my brow;
The Heart Of The Tree
© Henry Cuyler Bunner
WHAT does he plant who plants a tree?
He plants a friend of sun and sky;
The Song of the Darling River
© Henry Lawson
The skies are brass and the plains are bare,
Death and ruin are everywhere -
And all that is left of the last year's flood
Is a sickly stream on the grey-black mud;
The salt-springs bubble and the quagmires quiver,
And - this is the dirge of the Darling River:
The Pilgrim's Vision
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
The trees all clad in icicles,
The streams that did not flow;
A sudden thought flashed o'er him,-
A dream of long ago,-
He smote his leathern jerkin,
And murmured, "Even so!"