Poems begining by T
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The Child in the Orchard
© Edward Thomas
'He rolls in the orchard: he is stained with moss
And with earth, the solitary old white horse.
Where is his father and where is his mother
Among all the brown horses? Has he a brother?
I know the swallow, the hawk, and the hern;
But there are two million things for me to learn.
The Grey Company
© William Henry Ogilvie
Their white and their scarlet are folded away,
The hoofs of their horses are dumb on the hill;
In vain do we look for our comrades to-day,
Yet we know that in spirit they ride with us still.
To the Bramble Flower
© Ebenezer Elliott
Thy fruit full well the schoolboy knows,
Wild bramble of the brake!
The Salt of the Earth
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
IF childhood were not in the world,
But only men and women grown;
No baby-locks in tendrils curled,
No baby-blossoms blown;
The Loafers' Club
© Anonymous
A club there is established here, whose name they say is Legion;
From Melbourne to the Billabong they're known in every region.
They do not like the cockatoos, but mostly stick to stations,
Where they keep themselves from starving by cadging shepherd's rations.
The Restoration Of The Royal Family
© John Keble
As when the Paschal week is o'er,
Sleeps in the silent aisles no more
The breath of sacred song,
But by the rising Saviour's light
Awakened soars in airy flight,
Or deepening rolls along;
The Dead
© Leon Gellert
These there were, who lost their everything.
Gave all! And left the earth a vaster sphere
The Departure Of St. Patrick From Scotland
© Richard Monckton Milnes
Twice to your son already has the hand of God been shewn,
Restoring him from alien bonds to be once more your own,
And now it is the self--same hand, dear kinsmen, that to--day
Shall take me for the third time from all I love away.
Tardy Spring
© George Meredith
Now the North wind ceases,
The warm South-west awakes;
Swift fly the fleeces,
Thick the blossom-flakes.
The Village Schoolmaster
© Oliver Goldsmith
Beside yon straggling fence that skirts the way
With blossom'd furze unprofitably gay,
The Morning In The Country
© James Thomson
When from the opening chambers of the east
The morning springs, in thousand liveries drest,
The early larks their morning tribute pay,
And, in shrill notes, salute the blooming day.
The Fragment
© Hilaire Belloc
Towards the evening of her splendid day
Those who are little children now shall say
(Finding this verse),'Who wrote it, Juliet?'
And Juliet answer gently, 'I forget.'
To A Beautiful Woman
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
SURELY, dame Nature made you in some dream
Of old-world women--Chriemhild, or bright
Aslauga, or Boadicea fierce and fair,
Or Berengaria as she rose, her lips
Yet ruddy from the poison that anoints
Her memory still, the queen of queenly wives.
The Wild Kangaroo
© Henry Kendall
The rain-clouds have gone to the deep -
The East like a furnace doth glow;
The Happy Man
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
To teach the grey earth like a child,
To bid the heavens repent,
I only ask from Fate the gift
Of one man well content.
The Maid Of Ocram, Or, Lord Gregory
© John Clare
When you did change your ring for mine
My yielding heart to win,
Though mine was of the beaten gold
Yours but of burnished tin,
Though mine was all true love without,
Yours but false love within?
The Riddle of the Dinosaur
© Bert Leston Taylor
Behold the mighty dinosaur,
Famous in prehistoric lore,
The Merchant Ship
© Henry Kendall
The Sun oer the waters was throwing
In the freshness of morning its beams;
The Ballad Of The Solemn Ass
© Henry Van Dyke
Recited at the Century Club, New York: Twelfth Night. 1906
Come all ye good Centurions and wise men of the times,
