Poems begining by T
/ page 809 of 916 /To the maiden
© Stephen Crane
To the maiden
The sea was blue meadow,
Alive with little froth-people
Singing.
There were many who went in huddled procession
© Stephen Crane
There were many who went in huddled procession,
They knew not whither;
But, at any rate, success or calamity
Would attend all in equality.
There was a man who lived a life of fire
© Stephen Crane
There was a man who lived a life of fire.
Even upon the fabric of time,
Where purple becomes orange
And orange purple,
There came whisperings in the winds
© Stephen Crane
There came whisperings in the winds:
"Good-bye! Good-bye!"
Little voices called in the darkness:
"Good-bye! Good-bye!"
There was a man and a woman
© Stephen Crane
There was a man and a woman
Who sinned.
Then did the man heap the punishment
All upon the head of her,
And went away gaily.
There was, before me
© Stephen Crane
There was, before me,
Mile upon mile
Of snow, ice, burning sand.
And yet I could look beyond all this,
The trees in the garden rained flowers.
© Stephen Crane
The trees in the garden rained flowers.
Children ran there joyously.
They gathered the flowers
Each to himself.
There was one I met upon the road
© Stephen Crane
There was one I met upon the road
Who looked at me with kind eyes.
Her said, "Show me of your wares."
And this I did,
There was crimson clash of war.
© Stephen Crane
There was crimson clash of war.
Lands turned black and bare;
Women wept;
Babes ran, wondering.
"Tell brave deeds of war."
© Stephen Crane
Then they recounted tales, --
"There were stern stands
And bitter runs for glory."
Two or three angels
© Stephen Crane
Two or three angels
Came near to the earth.
They saw a fat church.
Little black streams of people
The wayfarer,
© Stephen Crane
The wayfarer,
Perceiving the pathway to truth,
Was struck with astonishment.
It was thickly grown with weeds.
"Think as I think," said a man
© Stephen Crane
"Think as I think," said a man,
"Or you are abominably wicked;
You are a toad."
"Truth," said a traveller
© Stephen Crane
"Truth," said a traveller,
"Is a rock, a mighty fortress;
Often have I been to it,
Even to its highest tower,
From whence the world looks black."
The ocean said to me once
© Stephen Crane
The ocean said to me once,
"Look!
Yonder on the shore
Is a woman, weeping.
Three little birds in a row
© Stephen Crane
Three little birds in a row
Sat musing.
A man passed near that place.
Then did the little birds nudge each other.
The Onion, Memory
© Craig Raine
In the village bakery
the pastry babies pass
from milky slump to crusty cadaver,
from crib to coffin--without palaver.
All's over in a flash,
too silently...
Tortures
© Wislawa Szymborska
Nothing has changed.
The body shudders as it shuddered
before the founding of Rome and after,
in the twentieth century before and after Christ.
Tortures are as they were, it's just the earth that's grown smaller,
and whatever happens seems right on the other side of the wall.
The Night Cometh
© Annie Louisa Walker
Work! for the night is coming;
Work! through the morning hours;
Work! while the dew is sparkling;
Work! 'mid the springing flowers;
The Quarry
© William Vaughn Moody
Between the rice swamps and the fields of tea
I met a sacred elephant, snow-white.
Upon his back a huge pagoda towered
Full of brass gods and food of sacrifice.