Poems begining by T
/ page 732 of 916 /Titian
© Vachel Lindsay
Would that such hills and cities round us sang,
Such vistas of the actual earth and man
The Complaints Of The Poor
© Robert Southey
And wherefore do the Poor complain?
The rich man asked of me,--
Come walk abroad with me, I said
And I will answer thee.
The Mower
© Philip Larkin
The mower stalled, twice; kneeling, I found
A hedgehog jammed up against the blades,
Killed. It had been in the long grass.
The Affliction Of Richard
© Robert Seymour Bridges
Love not too much. But how,
When thou hast made me such,
The Burial: In Memory of W.L.E.
© Leon Gellert
What task is this that so unnerves me now?
When pity should be dead, and has been dead.
The First Waits
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
SO, Christmas is here again!--
While the house sleeps, quiet as death,
'Neath the midnight moon comes the Waits' shrill tune,
And we listen and hold our breath.
To My Class: On Certain Fruits And Flowers Sent Me In Sickness
© Sidney Lanier
If spicy-fringed pinks that blush and pale
With passions of perfume, - if violets blue
The Waning Moon
© William Cullen Bryant
I've watched too late; the morn is near;
One look at God's broad silent sky!
Oh, hopes and wishes vainly dear,
How in your very strength ye die!
The Abbey Mason
© Thomas Hardy
(The church which, at an after date,
Acquired cathedral rank and state.)
The Frightened Man
© Louise Bogan
In fear of the rich mouth
I kissed the thin,--
Even that was a trap
To snare me in.
The Dream
© Louise Bogan
O God, in the dream the terrible horse began
To paw at the air, and make for me with his blows,
Fear kept for thirty-five years poured through his mane,
And retribution equally old, or nearly, breathed through his nose.
"They call me a cold one"
© Adam Mickiewicz
They call me a cold one,
And I hide away from them my anxious feelings,
But behind my indifferent appearance,
As if in a haze,
The Crossed Apple
© Louise Bogan
I've come to give you fruit from out my orchard,
Of wide report.
I have trees there that bear me many apples.
Of every sort:
The Alchemist
© Louise Bogan
I burned my life, that I may find
A passion wholly of the mind,
Thought divorced from eye and bone
Ecstasy come to breath alone.
I broke my life, to seek relief
From the flawed light of love and grief.
The Masque Of Pandora
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
THE VOICE.
Not finished till I breathe the breath of life
Into her nostrils, and she moves and speaks.
Tears In Sleep
© Louise Bogan
All night the cocks crew, under a moon like day,
And I, in the cage of sleep, on a stranger's breast,
Shed tears, like a task not to be put away---
In the false light, false grief in my happy bed,
The Pietous Complainte Of The Soule.
© Thomas Hoccleve
I meanë thus: if ony part of grace Reserued be, in tresoure or ellës where,That thu, for me purveyë and purchaseWolde vouchësaff, gret wondere but there wereI-nowgh for me: nought ellës I require; Do somwhat, than, aftir thi propirte,And schewe whi thu art cleped charite.
But now, allas, ful weel I may recorde, Whil I had myght and space of tyme I-nowgh,Of this mattere, towchid I no word,Ne, to seint, I tho my self[ë] drowgh,
That in myne nede for me may spekë now, As for no service that I have to him do:Wot I not, whom to make my monë to.
To The Countess Of Bedford II
© John Donne
TO have written then, when you writ, seem'd to me
Worst of spiritual vices, simony ;
The Condition Of King Seuen's Flocks
© Confucius
Who dares to say your sheep are few?
The flocks are all three hundred strong.
Who dares despise your cattle too?
There ninety, black-lipped, press along.
Though horned the sheep, yet peaceful each appears;
The cattle come with moist and flapping ears.