Poems begining by T
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The Hunting Horn Of Chalemagne
© Caroline Norton
Heard midst the rushing of the torrent's fall,
From castled crag to roofless ruin'd hall,
Down the ravine's precipitous descent,
Thro' the wild forest's rustling boughs it went,
Upon the lake's blue bosom linger'd fond,
And faintly answer'd from the hills beyond:
To The Right Honourable The Lady Elizabeth Boyle On Her BirthDay
© Mary Barber
May each new Year some new Perfection give,
Till all the Mother in the Daughter live!
May'st Thou her Virtues to the World restore!
And be what Henrietta was before!
The Rose
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
As late each flower that sweetest blows
I pluck'd, the Garden's pride!
Within the petals of a Rose
A sleeping Love I 'spied.
The Periwinkle Girl
© William Schwenck Gilbert
I've often thought that headstrong youths
Of decent education,
Determine all-important truths,
With strange precipitation.
The Good Shepherd With The Kid
© Matthew Arnold
_He saves the sheep, the goats he doth not save._
So rang Tertullian's sentence, on the side
Of that unpitying Phrygian Sect which cried:
"Him can no fount of fresh forgiveness lave,
The Thief
© Abraham Cowley
Thou robb'st my days of business and delights,
Of sleep thou robb'st my nights ;
The Sage Enamoured And The Honest Lady
© George Meredith
Our world believes it stabler if the soft
Are whipped to show the face repentance wears.
Then hear it, in a moan of atheist gloom,
Deplore the weedy growth of hypocrites;
Count Nature devilish, and accept for doom
The chasm between our passions and our wits!
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part II: To Juliet: XL
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
THE SAME CONTINUED
'Tis strange we are thus parted, not by death
Or man's device, but by our own mad will,
We who have stood together on life's path
To Our President
© Katharine Lee Bates
HOPE of the Nations, lift thy stricken heart.
Thyself art Sorrow, and to thee the cry
The Eve of St. John
© Sir Walter Scott
The baron of Smaylho'me rose with day,
He spurr'd his courser on,
Without stop or stay, down the rocky way,
That leads to Brotherstone.
The Morning Quatrains
© Charles Cotton
THE cock has crow'd an hour ago,
'Tis time we now dull sleep forego;
The God Who Waits
© Leslie Coulson
The old men in the olden days,
Who thought and worked in simple ways,
Believed in God and sought His praise.
The Lady C. M.
© George Meredith
To them that knew her, there is vital flame
In these the simple letters of her name.
To them that knew her not, be it but said,
So strong a spirit is not of the dead.
The War Sonnets: IV The Dead
© Rupert Brooke
There are waters blown by changing winds to laughter
And lit by the rich skies, all day. And after,
Frost, with a gesture, stays the waves that dance
And wandering loveliness. He leaves a white
Unbroken glory, a gathered radiance,
A width, a shining peace, under the night.
The Pathway Of The Living
© Edgar Albert Guest
The pathway of the living is our ever-present care.
Let us do our best to smooth it and to make it bright and fair;
Let us travel it with kindness, let's be careful as we tread,
And give unto the living what we'd offer to the dead.
The Palm Branch Of Palestine
© Mikhail Lermontov
Palm branch of Palestine, oh tell me,
In that far distant home-land fair,
Wast rooted in the mountain gravel
Or sprung from some vale garden rare?
"The Earth Waxeth Old."
© Isabella Valancy Crawford
When yellow-lock'd and crystal ey'd
I dream'd green woods among;
Where tall trees wav'd from side to side,
And in their green breasts deep and wide,
I saw the building blue jay hide,
O, then the earth was young!
The Witch of Wenham
© John Greenleaf Whittier
I.
Along Crane River's sunny slopes
Blew warm the winds of May,
And over Naumkeag's ancient oaks
The green outgrew the gray.
