Poems begining by T
/ page 780 of 916 /
To The Nightingale
© William Henry Drummond
Sweet bird, that sing'st away the early hours
Of winters past or coming, void of care,
Well pleased with delights which present are,
(Fair seasons, budding sprays, sweet-smelling flowers)
This Life Which Seems So Fair
© William Henry Drummond
This Life, which seems so fair,
Is like a bubble blown up in the air
By sporting children's breath,
Who chase it everywhere
The Paper Nautilus
© Marianne Clarke Moore
For authorities whose hopes
are shaped by mercenaries?
Writers entrapped by
teatime fame and by
To a Steam Roller
© Marianne Clarke Moore
The illustration
is nothing to you without the application.
You lack half wit. You crush all the particles down
into close conformity, and then walk back and forth on them.
The Past is the Present
© Marianne Clarke Moore
If external action is effete
and rhyme is outmoded,
I shall revert to you,
Habakkuk, as when in a Bible class
The Steeple-Jack
© Marianne Clarke Moore
Dürer would have seen a reason for living
in a town like this, with eight stranded whales
to look at; with the sweet sea air coming into your house
on a fine day, from water etched
with waves as formal as the scales
on a fish.
The Pangolin
© Marianne Clarke Moore
Another armored animal--scale
lapping scale with spruce-cone regularity until they
form the uninterrupted central
tail-row! This near artichoke with head and legs and grit-equipped
The Fish
© Marianne Clarke Moore
wade
through black jade.
Of the crow-blue mussel-shells, one keeps
adjusting the ash-heaps;
opening and shutting itself like
To a Canadian Aviator Who Died for his Country in France
© Duncan Campbell Scott
Tossed like a falcon from the hunter's wrist,
A sweeping plunge, a sudden shattering noise,
And thou hast dared, with a long spiral twist,
The elastic stairway to the rising sun.
The Violet Pressed in a Copy of Shakespeare
© Duncan Campbell Scott
Here in the inmost of the master's heart
This violet crisp with early dew
Has come to leave her beauty and to part
With all her vivid hue.
The Poet's Portion
© Thomas Hood
What is a minea treasurya dower
A magic talisman of mighty power?
A poet's wide possession of the earth.
He has th' enjoyment of a flower's birth
The Onondaga Madonna
© Duncan Campbell Scott
She stands full-throated and with careless pose,This woman of a weird and waning race,The tragic savage lurking in her face,Where all her pagan passion burns and glows;Her blood is mingled with her ancient foes,And thrills with war and wildness in her veins;Her rebel lips are dabbled with the stainsOf feuds and forays and her father's woes
The Message
© Duncan Campbell Scott
Wind of the gentle summer night,
Dwell in the lilac tree,
Sway the blossoms clustered light,
Then blow over to me.
Tightrope Walker
© Vernon Scannell
High on the thrilling strand he dances
Laved in white light. The smudged chalk faces
The Height of Land
© Duncan Campbell Scott
Here is the height of land:
The watershed on either hand
Goes down to Hudson Bay
Or Lake Superior;
The Half-breed Girl
© Duncan Campbell Scott
She is free of the trap and the paddle,
The portage and the trail,
But something behind her savage life
Shines like a fragile veil.
The Forsaken
© Duncan Campbell Scott
I
Once in the winter
Out on a lake
In the heart of the north-land,
The Ghosts Of The Trees
© Isabella Valancy Crawford
My brow I thrust,
Through sultry dust,
That the lean wolf howl'd upon;
I drove my tides,
Between the sides,
Of the bellowing canon.
The Chinese Nightingale
© Vachel Lindsay
"I remember, I remember
That Spring came on forever,
That Spring came on forever,"
Said the Chinese nightingale.
