Poems begining by T
/ page 808 of 916 /
The Man In The Bowler Hat
© Arthur Seymour John Tessimond
I am the man they call the nation's backbone,
Who am boneless - playable castgut, pliable clay:
The Man they label Little lest one day
I dare to grow.
The Threat
© Denise Duhamel
my mother pushed my sister out of the apartment door with an empty
suitcase because she kept threatening to run away my sister was sick of me
getting the best of everything the bathrobe with the pink stripes instead of
the red the soft middle piece of bread while she got the crust I was sick with
asthma and she thought this made me a favorite
To His Love When He Had Obtained Her
© Sir Walter Raleigh
Now Serena be not coy,
Since we freely may enjoy
Sweet embraces, such delights,
As will shorten tedious nights.
The Conclusion
© Sir Walter Raleigh
EVEN such is Time, that takes in trust
Our youth, our joys, our all we have,
And pays us but with earth and dust;
Who in the dark and silent grave,
The Artist
© Sir Walter Raleigh
The Artist and his Luckless Wife
They lead a horrid haunted life,
Surrounded by the things he's made
That are not wanted by the trade.
To a Lady with an Unruly and Ill-mannered Dog Who Bit several Persons of Importance
© Sir Walter Raleigh
Your dog is not a dog of grace;
He does not wag the tail or beg;
He bit Miss Dickson in the face;
He bit a Bailie in the leg.
The Silent Lover i
© Sir Walter Raleigh
PASSIONS are liken'd best to floods and streams:
The shallow murmur, but the deep are dumb;
So, when affection yields discourse, it seems
The bottom is but shallow whence they come.
They that are rich in words, in words discover
That they are poor in that which makes a lover.
The Silent Lover ii
© Sir Walter Raleigh
WRONG not, sweet empress of my heart,
The merit of true passion,
With thinking that he feels no smart,
That sues for no compassion.
The Lie
© Sir Walter Raleigh
Go, Soul, the body's guest,
Upon a thankless errand;
Fear not to touch the best;
The truth shall be thy warrant:
Go, since I needs must die,
And give the world the lie.
The Nymph's Reply To The Shepherd
© Sir Walter Raleigh
If all the world and love were young,
And truth in every shepherd's tongue,
These pretty pleasures might me move
To live with thee and be thy love.
There was a great cathedral
© Stephen Crane
There was a great cathedral.
To solemn songs,
A white procession
Moved toward the altar.
The sage lectured brilliantly
© Stephen Crane
Turned the sage again:
"Now this one is a devil,
And this one is me."
The pupils sat, all grinning,
And rejoiced in the game.
But the sage was a sage.
Tradition, thou art for suckling children
© Stephen Crane
Tradition, thou art for suckling children,
Thou art the enlivening milk for babes;
But no meat for men is in thee.
Then --
But, alas, we all are babes.
The impact of a dollar upon the heart
© Stephen Crane
The impact of a dollar upon the heart
Smiles warm red light,
Sweeping from the hearth rosily upon the white table,
With the hanging cool velvet shadows
Moving softly upon the door.
There was a land where lived no violets.
© Stephen Crane
There was a land where lived no violets.
A traveller at once demanded : "Why?"
The people told him:
"Once the violets of this place spoke thus:
There was a man with tongue of wood
© Stephen Crane
There was a man with tongue of wood
Who essayed to sing,
And in truth it was lamentable.
But there was one who heard
The chatter of a death-demon from a tree-top
© Stephen Crane
Blood -- blood and torn grass --
Had marked the rise of his agony --
This lone hunter.
The grey-green woods impassive
Had watched the threshing of his limbs.
There was set before me a mighty hill
© Stephen Crane
There was set before me a mighty hill,
And long days I climbed
Through regions of snow.
When I had before me the summit-view,
The livid lightnings flashed in the clouds
© Stephen Crane
The livid lightnings flashed in the clouds;
The leaden thunders crashed.
A worshipper raised his arm.
"Hearken! Hearken! The voice of God!"
The successful man has thrust himself
© Stephen Crane
The successful man has thrust himself
Through the water of the years,
Reeking wet with mistakes --
Bloody mistakes;
