Poems begining by T
/ page 726 of 916 /The Dark Forest
© Edward Thomas
Dark is the forest and deep, and overhead
Hang stars like seeds of light
In vain, though not since they were sown was bred
Anything more bright.
The Cherry Trees
© Edward Thomas
The cherry trees bend over and are shedding,
On the old road where all that passed are dead,
Their petals, strewing the grass as for a wedding
This early May morn when there is none to wed.
Tall Nettles
© Edward Thomas
TALL nettles cover up, as they have done
These many springs, the rusty harrow, the plough
Long worn out, and the roller made of stone:
Only the elm butt tops the nettles now.
To A Poor Old Woman
© William Carlos Williams
munching a plum on
the street a paper bag
of them in her hand
Toys
© Margaret Widdemer
SHE loves the flowers, the wind that bends the fir;
When the Spring comes she dances; and her mirth
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part II: To Juliet: LI
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
THE SAME CONTINUED
We planted love, and lo it bred a brood
Of lusts and vanities and senseless joys.
We planted love, and you have gathered food
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 1. Interlude V.
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A strain of music closed the tale,
A low, monotonous, funeral wail,
That with its cadence, wild and sweet,
Made the long Saga more complete.
The Moon Maiden's Song
© Ernest Christopher Dowson
Sleep! Cast thy canopy
Over this sleeper's brain,
Dim grow his memory,
When he wake again.
The Swamp Angel
© Anonymous
Angels of good and ill are every where;
They haunt the city and the cottage lone;
Their seen or unseen presence fills the air,
And feels the stir of every laugh and moan.
The Crying Water
© Arthur Symons
O water, voice of my heart, crying in the sand,
All night long crying with a mournful cry.
As I lie and listen, and cannot understand
The voice of my heart in my side or the voice of the sea,
O water, crying for rest, is it I, is it I?
All night long the water is crying to me.
Thief of the Moon
© Kenneth Slessor
Break, break thy strings, thou lutanists of earth,
Thy musics touch me not-let midnight cover
With pitchy seas those leaves of orange and lime,
I'll not repent. The world's no longer worth
One smile from thee, dear pirate of place and time,
Thief of old loves that haunted once thy lover!
The Dead Kings
© Francis Ledwidge
All the dead kings came to me
At Rosnaree, where I was dreaming.
A few stars glimmered through the morn,
And down the thorn the dews were streaming.
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part IV: Vita Nova: CII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
THE VENUS OF MILO
What art thou? Woman? Goddess? Aphrodite?
Yet never such as thou from the cold foam
Of ocean, nor from cloudy heaven might come,
Thomas Trevelyan
© Edgar Lee Masters
Reading in Ovid the sorrowful story of Itys,
Son of the love of Tereus and Procne, slain
For the guilty passion of Tereus for Philomela,
The flesh of him served to Tereus by Procne,
The Recall
© James Russell Lowell
Come back before the birds are flown,
Before the leaves desert the tree,
Tennessee Claflin Shope
© Edgar Lee Masters
I was the laughing-stock of the village,
Chiefly of the people of good sense, as they call themselves --
Also of the learned, like Rev. Peet, who read Greek
The same as English.
The Hawk's Nest
© Francis Bret Harte
We checked our pace, the red road sharply rounding;
We heard the troubled flow
Of the dark olive depths of pines resounding
A thousand feet below.
The Rooks
© Arthur Rimbaud
Lord, when the meadowland is cold,
and when in the downcast hamlets the long Angeluses are silent..
down on Nature barren of flowers let
them sweep from the wide skies, the dear delightful rooks.