Poems begining by T
/ page 913 of 916 /
The World
© Edwin Arlington Robinson
Some are the brothers of all humankind,
And own them, whatsoever their estate;
And some, for sorrow and self-scorn, are blind
With enmity for man's unguarded fate.
The Garden
© Edwin Arlington Robinson
My life! Ah, yes, there was my life, indeed!
And there were all the lives of humankind;
And they were like a book that I could read,
Whose every leaf, miraculously signed,
Outrolled itself from Thoughts eternal seed.
Love-rooted in Gods garden of the mind.
The Tree In Pamela's Garden
© Edwin Arlington Robinson
Pamela was too gentle to deceive
Her roses. "Let the men stay where they are,"
She said, "and if Apollo's avatar
Be one of them, I shall not have to grieve."
The Field of Glory
© Edwin Arlington Robinson
War shook the land where Levi dwelt,
And fired the dismal wrath he felt,
That such a doom was ever wrought
As his, to toil while others fought;
The Story Of The Ashes And The Flame
© Edwin Arlington Robinson
There she was always coming pretty soon
To fool him back, with penitent scared eyes
That had in them the laughter of the moon
For baffled lovers, and to make him think
Before she gave him time enough to wink
Her kisses were the keys to Paradise.
The House on the Hill
© Edwin Arlington Robinson
They are all gone away,
The House is shut and still,
There is nothing more to say.
The Mill
© Edwin Arlington Robinson
The miller's wife had waited long,
The tea was cold, the fire was dead;
And there might yet be nothing wrong
In how he went and what he said:
The Deserted Village
© Oliver Goldsmith
Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey,
Where wealth accumulates, and men decay:
Princes and lords may flourish, or may fade;
A breath can make them, as a breath has made;
But a bold peasantry, their country's pride,
When once destroyed can never be supplied.
The Wife of the Mind
© Charles Webb
Sharecroppers' child, she was more schooled
In slaughtering pigs and coaxing corn out of
The ground than in the laws of Math, the rules
Of Grammar. Seventeen, she fell in love
The Time Around Scars
© Michael Ondaatje
I would meet you now
and I would wish this scar
to have been given with
all the love
that never occurred between us.
The Cinnamon Peeler
© Michael Ondaatje
If I were a cinnamon peeler
I would ride your bed
And leave the yellow bark dust
On your pillow.
To A Sad Daughter
© Michael Ondaatje
One day I'll come swimming
beside your ship or someone will
and if you hear the siren
listen to it. For if you close your ears
only nothing happens. You will never change.
To the Memory of Henry Welles Livingston
© Major Henry Livingston, Jr.
A gentle spirit now above
Once animated what lies here
Till heav'n announc'd in tenderest love
"Ascend Immortal to yon sphere."
The IX Ode to Horace
© Major Henry Livingston, Jr.
While I was pleasing to your arms,
Nor any youth, of happier charms,
Thy snowy bosom blissful prest,
Not Portia's like me was blest.
The Vine & Oak, A Fable
© Major Henry Livingston, Jr.
He saw her all defenseless lay
To each invading beast a prey,
And wish'd to clasp her in his arms
And bear her far away from harms.
'Twas love -- 'twas tenderness -- 'twas all
That men the tender passion call.
The Procession
© Major Henry Livingston, Jr.
The legislators pass along
A solemn, self-important throng!
Just raised from the common mass,
They feel themselves another class.
--But let them in the sunshine play
For every dog must have his day.
To the Memory of Sarah Livingston
© Major Henry Livingston, Jr.
BEYOND where billows roll or tempests vex
Is gone the gentlest of the gentle sex!
---Her brittle bark on life's wild ocean tost
Unequal to the conflict soon was lost.
To My Little Niece Sally Livingston
© Major Henry Livingston, Jr.
To my little niece Sally Livingston, on the death of a little serenading wren she admired.
Hasty pilgrim stop thy pace
Turn a moment to this place
Read what pity hath erected
The Crane & The Fox, a Fable
© Major Henry Livingston, Jr.
She came - wide stood the unfolded door
And roses deck'd the sanded floor -
- There hyacinths in festoons hung
- Here lillies their rich fragrance flung -
To my little niece Anne Duyckinck, aged 9 years
© Major Henry Livingston, Jr.
To his charming black-eyed nieceUncle Harry wishest peace!Wishes roses over strow'dO'er her sublunary road!
