Allen Tate

(19 November 1899 - 9 February 1979 / Winchester, Kentucky)

Allen Tate Poems

41. Aeneas At Washington 4/21/2010
42. Sonnets Of The Blood Viii 4/21/2010
43. The Anabasis 4/21/2010
44. Idiot 4/21/2010
45. False Nightmare 4/21/2010
46. Elegy 4/21/2010
47. The Paradigm 4/21/2010
48. Shadow And Shade 4/21/2010
49. To The Lacedemonians 4/21/2010
50. Ode To Fear 4/21/2010
51. The Vigil Of Venus 4/21/2010
52. The Oath 4/21/2010
53. The Eagle 4/21/2010
54. The Eye 4/21/2010
55. The Twelve 4/21/2010
56. Mr. Pope 4/21/2010
57. The Traveller 4/21/2010
58. The Robber Bridegroom 4/21/2010
59. Mother And Son 4/21/2010
60. Death Of Little Boys 4/21/2010
61. Last Days Of Alice 4/21/2010
62. To The Romantic Traditionists 4/21/2010
63. The Cross 4/21/2010
64. Unnatural Love 4/21/2010
65. The Meaning Of Life 4/21/2010
66. To A Romantic 4/21/2010
67. The Wolves 4/21/2010
68. The Meaning Of Death 4/21/2010
69. Winter Mask 4/21/2010
70. The Subway 4/21/2010
71. Light 4/21/2010
72. The Mediterranean 1/20/2003
73. Ode To The Confederate Dead 1/20/2003

Comments about Allen Tate

There is no comment submitted by members..
Best Poem of Allen Tate

Ode To The Confederate Dead

Row after row with strict impunity
The headstones yield their names to the element,
The wind whirrs without recollection;
In the riven troughs the splayed leaves
Pile up, of nature the casual sacrament
To the seasonal eternity of death;
Then driven by the fierce scrutiny
Of heaven to their election in the vast breath,
They sough the rumour of mortality.

Autumn is desolation in the plot
Of a thousand acres where these memories grow
From the inexhaustible bodies that are not
Dead, but feed the grass row after rich row.
Think of the autumns that have ...

Read the full of Ode To The Confederate Dead

The Mediterranean

Where we went in the boat was a long bay
a slingshot wide, walled in by towering stone--
Peaked margin of antiquity's delay,
And we went there out of time's monotone:

Where we went in the black hull no light moved
But a gull white-winged along the feckless wave,
The breeze, unseen but fierce as a body loved,
That boat drove onward like a willing slave:

[Report Error]