Poems begining by T
/ page 153 of 916 /The Solitary
© Sara Teasdale
My heart has grown rich with the passing of years,
I have less need now than when I was young
To share myself with every comer
Or shape my thoughts into words with my tongue.
Turn O The Tide
© Henry Van Dyke
The tide flows in to the harbour,
The bold tide, the gold tide, the flood o' the sunlit sea,
Turner's Old Temeraire
© James Russell Lowell
Thou wast the fairest of all man-made things;
The breath of heaven bore up thy cloudy wings,
And, patient in their triple rank,
The thunders crouched about thy flank,
Their black lips silent with the doom of kings.
The Ghost - Book III
© Charles Churchill
It was the hour, when housewife Morn
With pearl and linen hangs each thorn;
The Will
© John Donne
Before I sigh my last gasp, let me breathe,
Great Love, some legacies ; I here bequeath
The Marigold
© George Wither
. When with a serious musing I behold
The grateful and obsequious marigold,
The Very Merry Voyage Of The Macaroni Man
© Carolyn Wells
This figure here before you is a Macaroni Man,
Who is built, as you may notice, on a most ingenious plan.
The Sundowner.
© Robert Crawford
So He will at the last, too, gather all,
As in the bush a traveller for his fire
Sticks and dry leaves, as eerie the light fades;
Till from those sticks and leaves there comes a flame,
There Was A Rose
© Madison Julius Cawein
There was a rose in Eden once: it grows
On Earth now, sweeter for its rare perfume:
To The Albanian eagle
© Ndre Mjeda
High amongst the clouds, above the cliffs
Sparkling in perennial snow,
Like lightning, like an arrow,
Soars on sibilant wings
'Midst the peaks and jagged rocks
The eagle in the first rays of dawn.
The Invasion
© Sir Henry Newbolt
Spring, they say, with his greenery
Northward marches at last,
Mustering thorn and elm;
Breezes rumour him conquering,
Tell how Victory sits
High on his glancing helm.
The Brus Book IX
© John Barbour
[The king goes to Inverurie and falls ill]
Now leve we intill the Forest
The True Evangel
© Peter McArthur
BECAUSE that men were deaf, and man to man
I could not speak, but inarticulate
The Harder Part
© Edgar Albert Guest
It's mighty hard for MotherI am busy through the day
And the tasks of every morning keep the gloomy thoughts away,
The Forest Sanctuary - Part II.
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Ave, sanctissima!
'Tis night-fall on the sea;
Ora pro nobis!
Our souls rise to thee!
The Armistice
© John Jay Chapman
WHEN from a mighty storm far out at sea
Roll in the glassy and gigantic waves,
The Sacred Fire
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
They lit a fire within their land that long was ashes cold,
With splendid dreams they made it glow, threw in their hearts of gold.
The Meeting
© Pierre Louys
Treasure-like, I found her in a field
under a myrtle hedge, wrapped from her
throat to her feet in a yellow robe broidered
with blue. 'I have no friend,' she told me,