Poems begining by T
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The Seekers
© John Masefield
Friends and loves we have none, nor wealth nor blessed abode,
But the hope of the City of God at the other end of the road.
Tortoise Gallantry
© David Herbert Lawrence
And so he strains beneath her housey wall,
And catches her trouser-legs in his beak
Suddenly, or her skinny limb,
And strange and grimly drags at her
Like a dog,
Only agelessly silent, with a reptile's awful persistency.
The Happiest Land. (From The German)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
There sat one day in quiet,
By an alehouse on the Rhine,
Four hale and hearty fellows,
And drank the precious wine.
The Punisher
© David Herbert Lawrence
I have fetched the tears up out of the little wells,
Scooped them up with small, iron words,
Dripping over the runnels.
tujhi ko jo yan jalwa farma na dekha
© Khwaja Mir Dard
mera guncha-e-dil hai woh dil-girifta
k jis ko kaso ne kabhi wa na dekha
The Artist
© William Henry Ogilvie
He stands at no easel, he mixes no paint,
He colours no canvas to gladden the eye,
The Prophet
© David Herbert Lawrence
Ah, my darling, when over the purple horizon shall loom
The shrouded mother of a new idea, men hide their faces,
Cry out and fend her off, as she seeks her procreant groom,
Wounding themselves against her, denying her fecund embraces.
The Revolutionary
© David Herbert Lawrence
Look at them standing there in authority
The pale-faces,
As if it could have any effect any more.
They Loved One Another
© Caroline Norton
THEY loved one another! young Edward and his wife,
And in their cottage-home they dwelt, apart from sin and strife.
The Wild Common
© David Herbert Lawrence
The quick sparks on the gorse bushes are leaping,
Little jets of sunlight-texture imitating flame;
Above them, exultant, the peewits are sweeping:
They are lords of the desolate wastes of sadness their screamings proclaim.
Tease
© David Herbert Lawrence
I will give you all my keys,
You shall be my ch?telaine,
You shall enter as you please,
As you please shall go again.
The Nursing Sister
© Rudyard Kipling
Our sister sayeth such and such,
And we must bow to her behests.
Our sister toileth overmuch,
Our little maid that hath no breasts.
The Tree
© Jones Very
I love thee when thy swelling buds appear
And one by one their tender leaves unfold,
The Mystic Blue
© David Herbert Lawrence
Out of the darkness, fretted sometimes in its sleeping,
Jets of sparks in fountains of blue come leaping
To sight, revealing a secret, numberless secrets keeping.
The Palm-Tree
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Is it the palm, the cocoa-palm,
On the Indian Sea, by the isles of balm?
Or is it a ship in the breezeless calm?
The Bride
© David Herbert Lawrence
My love looks like a girl to-night,
But she is old.
The plaits that lie along her pillow
Are not gold,
But threaded with filigree silver,
And uncanny cold.
The Mother's Question
© Edgar Albert Guest
When I was a boy, and it chanced to rain,
Mother would always watch for me;
The Deepest Sensuality
© David Herbert Lawrence
The profoundest of all sensualities
is the sense of truth
and the next deepest sensual experience
is the sense of justice.
The Pine Woods Of Grijo
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Our voices break on a stillness bright and strange
Of early morning. Pines upon either hand
People the sunshine: deep as eye can range,
Their lofty throngs in a darkling order stand.
