Poems begining by T
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The Cloud-Star
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
FAR up within the tranquil sky,
Far up it shone;
Floating, how gently, silently,
Floating alone!
Two Capitals1910
© Harriet Monroe
White Moscow of the pearly towers.
And golden domes for praise
And chiming hours!
Red Moscow of the Kremlin walls,
And bloody battle ways
And fire-scarred halls!
The Creatures In The Lord's Hands
© John Newton
The water stood like walls of brass,
To let the sons of Israel pass;
And from the rock in rivers burst
At Moses' prayer to quench their thirst.
To The Hummingbird
© Jones Very
I cannot heal thy green gold breast,
Where deep those cruel teeth have prest,
Nor bid thee raise thy ruffled crest,
And seek thy mate,
Who sits alone within thy nest,
Nor sees thy fate.
The Little Native Rose
© Henry Lawson
THERE is a lasting little flower,
That everybody knows,
Yet none has thought to think about
The little Native Rose.
To Laura At The Harpsichord
© Johann Christoph Friedrich Von Schiller
When o'er the chords thy fingers stray,
My spirit leaves its mortal clay,
A statue there I stand;
Thy spell controls e'en life and death,
As when the nerves a living breath
Receive by Love's command! [1]
The Wife Of Asdrubal
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Bright in her hand the lifted dagger gleams,
Swift from her children's hearts the life-blood streams;
With frantic laugh she clasps them to the breast
Whose woes and passions soon shall be at rest;
Lifts one appealing, frenzied glance on high,
Then deep 'midst rolling flames is lost to mortal eye.
The Shallows Of The Ford
© Henry Herbert Knibbs
Did you ever wait for daylight
when the stars along the river
The Lambs on the Boulder
© James Wright
I hear that the Commune di Padova has an exhibition of master-
pieces from Giotto to Mantegna. Giotto is the master of angels, and
The Story of Augustus who would not have any Soup
© Heinrich Hoffmann
Augustus was a chubby lad;
Fat, ruddy cheeks Augustus had;
And everybody saw with joy
The plump and hearty, healthy boy,
He ate and drank as he was told
And never let his soup get cold.
The Carter
© William Barnes
O, I be a carter, wi' my whip
A-smackèn loud, as by my zide,
Up over hill, an' down the dip,
The heavy lwoad do slowly ride.
The Year's End
© Roderic Quinn
THE voices of the wind and wave
They sigh the Old Year's requiem;
The dead are calling from the grave
Good friends, a little space I crave
The White Snow
© Guillaume Apollinaire
The angels the angels in the sky
Ones dressed as an officer
Ones dressed as a chef today
And the others sing
The Chalice of Circe
© Muriel Stuart
DRINK of our Cup-of the red wine that burns in it,
All the wild shames that have crusted its mouth,
Passion that twists in it, Madness that churns in it,
Fever that yearns in it, Folly that turns in it,
Drink of our Cup! It is Love, it is Youth!
'Tis moonlight
© Emily Jane Brontë
'TIS moonlight, summer moonlight,
All soft and still and fair;
The solemn hour of midnight
Breathes sweet thoughts everywhere,
The Task: Book III. -- The Garden
© William Cowper
As one who, long in thickets and in brakes
Entangled, winds now this way and now that
The Undiscovered Country
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Still, though he search from shore to distant shore,
And no strange realms, no unlocated plains
Are left for his attainment and control,
Yet is there one more kingdom to explore.
Go, know thyself, O man! there yet remains
The undiscovered country of thy soul!
