Poems begining by T

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Come away! come away! you can hear them calling, calling,
Calling us to come to them, and roam no more.
Over there beyond the ridges and the land that lies between us,
Theres an old song calling us to come!

The Clerks

© Edwin Arlington Robinson

And you that ache so much to be sublime,
And you that feed yourselves with your descent,
What comes of all your visions and your fears?
Poets and kings are but the clerks of Time,
Tiering the same dull webs of discontent,
Clipping the same sad alnage of the years.

The Rat

© Edwin Arlington Robinson

Now he is hiding all alone somewhere,
And in a final hole not ready then;
For now he is among those over there
Who are not coming back to us again.
And we who do the fiction of our share
Say less of rats and rather more of men.

The False Gods

© Edwin Arlington Robinson

We are false and evanescent, and aware of our deceit,
From the straw that is our vitals to the clay that is our feet.
You may serve us if you must, and you shall have your wage of ashes,
Though arrears due thereafter may be hard for you to meet.

Twilight Song

© Edwin Arlington Robinson

Through the shine, through the rain
We have shared the days load;
To the old march again
We have tramped the long road;

The Dead Village

© Edwin Arlington Robinson

Now there is nothing but the ghosts of things,
No life, no love, no children, and no men;
And over the forgotten place there clings
The strange and unrememberable light
That is in dreams. The music failed, and then
God frowned, and shut the village from His sight.

The Long Race

© Edwin Arlington Robinson

They dredged an hour for words, and then were done.
Good-bye! You have the same old weather-vane
Your little horse thats always on the run.
And all the way down back to the next train,
Down the old hill to the old road again,
It seemed as if the little horse had won.

The Man Against the Sky

© Edwin Arlington Robinson

Between me and the sunset, like a dome
Against the glory of a world on fire,
Now burned a sudden hill,
Bleak, round, and high, by flame-lit height made higher,

The Pilot

© Edwin Arlington Robinson

From the Past and Unavailing
Out of cloudland we are steering:
After groping, after fearing,
Into starlight we come trailing,

The Gift of God

Blessed with a joy that only she
Of all alive shall ever know,
She wears a proud humility
For what it was that willed it so -

The Flying Dutchman

Unyielding in the pride of his defiance,
Afloat with none to serve or to command,
Lord of himself at last, and all by Science,
He seeks the Vanished Land.

Two Men

There be two men of all mankind
That I should like to know about;
But search and question where I will,
I cannot ever find them out.

The Woman and the Wife

"You ask me for one more proof that I speak right,
But I can answer only what I know;
You look for just one lie to make black white,
But I can tell you only what is true--
God never made me for the wife of you.
This we can say,--believe me! . . . Tell me so!"