Poems begining by T
/ page 179 of 916 /The Tide River
© Charles Kingsley
Clear and cool, clear and cool,
By laughing shallow and dreaming pool;
The Skies Are Strown With Stars
© William Ernest Henley
The skies are strown with stars,
The streets are fresh with dew
A thin moon drifts to westward,
The night is hushed and cheerful.
My thought is quick with you.
The Apparition
© Duncan Campbell Scott
Gentle angel with your mantle,
All of tender green,
I was yearning for a vision
Of the life unseen.
The Valley Of Baca
© Emma Lazarus
A brackish lake is there with bitter pools
Anigh its margin, brushed by heavy trees.
A piping wind the narrow valley cools,
Fretting the willows and the cypresses.
Gray skies above, and in the gloomy space
An awful presence hath its dwelling-place.
The Beginning
© Jean Ingelow
Such as can see,
Why should they doubt? The childhood of a race.
The childhood of a soul, hath neither doubt
Nor fear. Where all is super-natural
The guileless heart doth feed on it, no more
Afraid than angels are of heaven.
The Light Of Love
© John Hay
Each shining light above us
Has its own peculiar grace;
But every light of heaven
Is in my darling's face.
The Unknowing
© Virna Sheard
If the bird knew how through the wintry weather
An empty nest would swing by day and night,
It would not weave the strands so close together
Or sing for such delight.
The Maple Tree
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Well have Canadians chosen thee
As the emblem of their land,
To My Daughter
© Victor Marie Hugo
My child! thou seest me content to lead
A lonely life. Do thou, in imitation,
Not happy, nor triumphant, learn the need
Of resignation.
To A Sister
© George MacDonald
A fresh young voice that sings to me
So often many a simple thing,
Should surely not unanswered be
By all that I can sing.
The Dance
© Hart Crane
Mythical brows we saw retiringloth,
Disturbed and destined, into denser green.
Greeting they sped us, on the arrows oath:
Now lie incorrigibly what years between . .
The Queen
© Pablo Neruda
I have named you queen.
There are taller than you, taller.
There are purer than you, purer.
There are lovelier than you, lovelier.
But you are the queen.
The Authors: A Satire
© Richard Savage
"HOLD, Criticks cry-Erroneous are your Lays,
"Your Field was Satire, your Pursuit is Praise."
True, you Profound!-I praise, but yet I sneer;
You're dark to Beauties, if to Errors clear!
Know my Lampoon's in Panegyric seen,
For just Applause turns Satire on your Spleen.
To My Mother
© John Le Gay Brereton
Once more the Christian festival is near,
And I, for whom each day repeats all days
The Merman (From The Old Danish)
© George Borrow
Do thou, dear Mother, contrive amain
How Marsk Stigs daughter I may gain.
The Masters
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
OH, who is the Lord of the land of life,
When hotly goes the fray?
The Poor Man's Guest
© Edith Nesbit
ONE came to me in royal guise
With banners flying fair and free
But many griefs had made me wise
And I refused to bow the knee.
The Witch of Hebron
© Charles Harpur
Of golden lamps, showed many a treasure rare
Of Indian and Armenian workmanship
Which might have seemed a wonder of the world:
And trains of servitors of every clime,
Greeks, Persians, Indians, Ethiopians,
In richest raiment thronged the spacious halls.