Poems begining by T
/ page 104 of 916 /This Mad Carnival Of Loving
© Heinrich Heine
This mad carnival of loving,
This wild orgy of the flesh,
The Find
© Charles Kingsley
Yon sound's neither sheep-bell nor bark,
They're running-they're running, Go hark!
The Portland Election Air/"The Parson And The Suckling Pig"
© William Gay
1. 'Twas in the year of fifty one; the tenth day of September;
The Electors came all in a band, to vote for their first member.
Two candidates were fixed upon, a little while before,
Our worthy Guardian Wilkinson, and Melbourne, Mr Moore.
To E.G., Dedicating a Book
© George MacDonald
A broken tale of endless things,
Take, lady: thou art not of those
Who in what vale a fountain springs
Would have its journey close.
Tray
© Robert Browning
Sing me a hero! Quench my thirst
Of soul, ye bards!
Quoth Bard the first:
"Sir Olaf, the good knight, did don
His helm, and eke his habergeon ..."
Sir Olaf and his bard----!
The Wishing Bridge
© John Greenleaf Whittier
AMONG the legends sung or said
Along our rocky shore,
The Wishing Bridge of Marblehead
May well be sung once more.
"The City of Brass"
© Rudyard Kipling
In a land that the sand overlays the ways to her gates are untrod
A multitude ended their days whose gates were made splendid by God,
Till they grew drunk and were smitten with madness and went to their fall,
And of these is a story written: but Allah Alone knoweth all!
To Alfred Tennyson
© Alfred Austin
Poet! in other lands, when Spring no more
Gleams o'er the grass, nor in the thicket-side
"The Girt Woak Tree That's In the Dell"
© William Barnes
The girt woak tree that's in the dell!
There's noo tree I do love so well;
Vor times an' times when I wer young,
I there've a-climbed, an' there've a-zwung,
The Dilettante: A Modern Type
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
HE scribbles some in prose and verse,
And now and then he prints it;
The Ballad of Tanna
© Henry Kendall
She knelt by the dead, in her passionate grief,
Beneath a weird forest of Tanna;
To Lady Carteret
© Jonathan Swift
FROM India's burning clime I'm brought,
With cooling gales like zephyrs fraught.
Not Iris, when she paints the sky,
Can show more different hues than I;
The Fortune Seeker
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
HOLLYHOCKS slant in the wind,
Gallantly blowing,
The Parish Register - Part III: Burials
© George Crabbe
drown'd.
"Is this a landsman's love? Be certain then,
"We part for ever!"--and they cried, "Amen!"
His words were truth's:- Some forty summers
The Ballad Of The Dark Ladie. A Fragment.
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Beneath yon birch with silver bark,
And boughs so pendulous and fair,
The brook falls scatter'd down the rock:
And all is mossy there!
The First Snowfall
© James Russell Lowell
THE snow had begun in the gloaming,
And busily all the night
Had been heaping field and highway
With a silence deep and white.
The Cup
© Swami Vivekananda
This is your cup - the cup assigned
to you from the beginning.
Nay, My child, I know how much
of that dark drink is your own brew
Of fault and passion, ages long ago,
In the deep years of yesterday, I know.