Poems begining by T
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The Beggar Laddies early
© Emily Dickinson
The Beggar Laddies early
It's Somewhat in the Cold
And Somewhat in the Trudging feet
And haply, in the World
The Ships Of Saint John
© Bliss William Carman
Frenchman and Britisher and Dane,
Yankee, Spaniard and Portugee,
And many a home ship back again
With her stories of the sea.
The Independent Bee
© William Schwenck Gilbert
Her Majesty wore an angry frown,
In fact, her Majesty's foot was down -
Her Majesty sulked - declined to sup -
In short, her Majesty's back was up.
Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz.
Her foot was down and her back was up!
The Despairing Shepherd
© Matthew Prior
Alexis shun'd his Fellow Swains,
Their rural Sports, and jocund Strains:
The Lady Of La Garaye - Part I
© Caroline Norton
So, till the day when over Dinan's walls
The Autumn sunshine of my story falls;
And the guests bidden, gather for the chase,
And the smile brightens on the lovely face
That greets them in succession as they come
Into that high and hospitable home.
The Faun's Sweetheart
© Margaret Widdemer
We met by the Wood of Doom,
Day gone and the dusk come after . . .
The Ubique
© Rudyard Kipling
There is a word you often see, pronounce it as you may -
'You bike,' 'you bikwe,' 'ubbikwe' - alludin' to R.A.
It serves 'Orse, Field, an' Garrison as motto for a crest,
An' when you've found out all it means I'll tell you 'alf the rest.
The Spaniards' Graves
© Celia Thaxter
O sailors, did sweet eyes look after you
The day you sailed away from sunny Spain?
Bright eyes that followed fading ship and crew,
Melting in tender rain?
Trois quatrains
© Charles Cros
Au milieu du sang, au milieu du feu,
Votre âme limpide, ainsi quun ciel bleu,
Répand sa rosée en fraîches paroles
Sur nos curs troublés, mourantes corolles.
The Neglected Wife
© John Kenyon
They tell me that my face is fair,
That sunny smiles are on my cheek
The New-year's Gift
© Robert Herrick
Let others look for pearl and gold,
Tissues, or tabbies manifold:
One only lock of that sweet hay
Whereon the blessed Baby lay,
Or one poor swaddling-clout, shall be
The richest New-year's gift to me.
The wind from the West
© Edward Young
Blow high, blow low,
O wind from the West;
You come from the country
I love the best.
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 2. Interlude II.
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
"I thought before your tale began,"
The Student murmured, "we should have
The Forest Pool
© Edith Nesbit
LEAN down and see your little face
Reflected in the forest pool,
Tall foxgloves grow about the place,
Forget-me-nots grow green and cool.
Look deep and see the naiad rise
To meet the sunshine of your eyes.
The Fishermen
© Emile Verhaeren
The spot is flaked with mist, that fills,
Thickening into rolls more dank,
The thresholds and the window-sills,
And smokes on every bank.
The Size
© George Herbert
Content thee, greedie heart.
Modest and moderate joyes to those, that have
Title to more hereafter when they part,
Are passing brave.
Let th' upper springs into the low
Descend and fall, and thou dost flow.
To Roses in the Bosom of Castara
© William Habington
YE blushing virgins happy are
In the chaste nunnery of her breasts-
For he'd profane so chaste a fair,
Whoe'er should call them Cupid's nests.
The Cloud Messenger - Part 02
© Kalidasa
Your naturally beautiful reflection will gain entry into the clear waters of the
Gambhira River, as into a clear mind. Therefore it is not fitting that you, out
of obstinancy, should render futile her glances which are the darting leaps of
little fish, as white as night-lotus flowers.
