Poems begining by T
/ page 847 of 916 /
The City
© George William Russell
WHAT domination of what darkness dies this hour,
And through what new, rejoicing, winged, ethereal power
Oerthrown, the cells opened, the heart released from fear?
Gay twilight and grave twilight pass. The stars appear
The Morning Star
© George William Russell
IN the black pool of the midnight Lu has slung the morning star,
And its foam in rippling silver whitens into day afar
Falling on the mountain rampart piled with pearl above our glen,
Only you and I, beloved, moving in the fields of men.
Truth
© George William Russell
THE HERO first thought it
To him twas a deed:
To those who retaught it,
A chain on their speed.
Tragedy
© George William Russell
A MAN went forth one day at eve:
The long days toil for him was done:
The eye that scanned the page could leave
Its task until tomorrows sun.
The Great Breath
© George William Russell
ITS edges foamed with amethyst and rose,
Withers once more the old blue flower of day:
There where the ether like a diamond glows
Its petals fade away.
The Man to the Angel
© George William Russell
I HAVE wept a million tears:
Pure and proud one, where are thine,
What the gain though all thy years
In unbroken beauty shine?
The Hermit
© George William Russell
NOW the quietude of earth
Nestles deep my heart within;
Friendships new and strange have birth
Since I left the citys din.
The Message
© George William Russell
DO you not feel the white glow in your breast, my bird?
That is the flame of love I send to you from afar:
Not a wafted kiss, hardly a whispered word,
But love itself that flies as a white-winged star.
The Place of Rest
© George William Russell
UNTO the deep the deep heart goes,
It lays its sadness nigh the breast:
Only the Mighty Mother knows
The wounds that quiver unconfessed.
The Last Hero
© George William Russell
WE laid him to rest with tenderness;
Homeward we turned in the twilights gold;
We thought in ourselves with dumb distress
All the story of earth is told.
The Symbol Seduces
© George William Russell
THERE in her old-world garden smiles
A symbol of the worlds desire,
Striving with quaint and lovely wiles
To bind to earth the soul of fire.
The Gift
© George William Russell
I THOUGHT, beloved, to have brought to you
A gift of quietness and ease and peace,
Cooling your brow as with the mystic dew
Dropping from twilight trees.
The Veils of Maya
© George William Russell
MOTHER, with whom our lives should be,
Not hatred keeps our lives apart:
Charmed by some lesser glow in thee,
Our hearts beat not within thy heart.
The Hon. Sec.
© John Betjeman
The flag that hung half-mast today
Seemed animate with being
As if it knew for who it flew
And will no more be seeing.
The Cottage Hospital
© John Betjeman
At the end of a long-walled garden in a red provincial town,
A brick path led to a mulberry- scanty grass at its feet.
I lay under blackening branches where the mulberry leaves hung down
Sheltering ruby fruit globes from a Sunday-tea-time heat.
Apple and plum espaliers basked upon bricks of brown;
The air was swimming with insects, and children played in the street.
Trebetherick
© John Betjeman
We used to picnic where the thrift
Grew deep and tufted to the edge;
We saw the yellow foam flakes drift
In trembling sponges on the ledge
The Plantster's Vision
© John Betjeman
Cut down that timber! Bells, too many and strong,
Pouring their music through the branches bare,
From moon-white church towers down the windy air
Have pealed the centuries out with Evensong.
The Licorice Fields at Pontefract
© John Betjeman
In the licorice fields at Pontefract
My love and I did meet
And many a burdened licorice bush
Was blooming round our feet;
The Olympic Girl
© John Betjeman
The sort of girl I like to see
Smiles down from her great height at me.
She stands in strong, athletic pose
And wrinkles her retrouss? nose.
The Irish Unionist's farewell to Greta Hellastrom in 1922
© John Betjeman
Golden haired and golden hearted
I would ever have you be,
As you were when last we parted
Smiling slow and sad at me.
