Poems begining by T
/ page 206 of 916 /
The Bench Of Boors
© Herman Melville
In bed I muse on Tenier's boors,
Embrowned and beery losels all;
A wakeful brain
Elaborates pain:
Within low doors the slugs of boors
Laze and yawn and doze again.
The Wedding Band
© Forough Farrokhzad
Everyone said: Congratulations and best wishes!
the girl said: Alas
that I still have doubts about its meaning.
The Duke Of Chow Tells Of His Soldiers
© Confucius
To the hills of the East we went,
And long had we there to remain.
When the word of recall was sent,
Thick and fast came the drizzling rain.
The Scholar's Relapse
© William Shenstone
By the side of a grove, at the foot of a hill,
Where whisper'd the beech, and where murmur'd the rill,
I vow'd to the Muses my time and my care,
Since neither could win me the smiles of my fair.
The Lord Is His Devotees' Slave
© Sant Surdas
Whatever is a devotee's
caste, clan, family, or name,
Rama's love for him is the same.
The Way I read a Letter'sthis
© Emily Dickinson
The Way I read a Letter'sthis
'Tis firstI lock the Door
And push it with my fingersnext
For transport it be sure
The Singer In The Prison
© Walt Whitman
O sight of pity, gloom, and dole!
O pardon me, a hapless Soul!
The Short Road To Heaven
© Katharine Tynan
There's a short road to Heaven, but you must take it young,
And if you're for long living the road is all as long;
A long road, a hard road, with many a turn and twist.
The longer you'll be travelling, the easier it's missed.
The First Spring Day
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
I wonder if the sap is stirring yet,
If wintry birds are dreaming of a mate,
If frozen snowdrops feel as yet the sun
And crocus fires are kindling one by one:
Sing, robin, sing;
I still am sore in doubt concerning Spring.
The Heroic Enthusiasts - Part The First =Fifth Dialogue.=
© Giordano Bruno
CIC. Now show me how I may be able for myself to consider the conditions
of these enthusiasts, through that which appears in the order of the
warfare here described.
The Weaver
© Anonymous
My life is but a weaving, between my God and me,
I do not choose the colors, He worketh steadily.
The Gardener
© Arthur Symons
The gardener in his old brown hands
Turns over the brown earth,
As if he loves and understands
The flowers before their birth,
The fragile childish little strands
He buries in the earth.
Twas CrisisAll the length had passed
© Emily Dickinson
'Twas CrisisAll the length had passed
That dullbenumbing time
There is in Fever or Event
And now the Chance had come
The Seaside And The Fireside : Dedication
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
As one who, walking in the twilight gloom,
Hears round about him voices as it darkens,
And seeing not the forms from which they come,
Pauses from time to time, and turns and hearkens;
To a Mountain
© Henry Kendall
To thee, O father of the stately peaks,
Above me in the loftier light - to thee,
The Ballad of the Clampherdown
© Rudyard Kipling
It was our war-ship Clampherdown
Would sweep the Channel clean,
Wherefore she kept her hatches close
When the merry Channel chops arose,
To save the bleached marine.
The Buried Flower
© William Edmondstoune Aytoun
In the silence of my chamber,
When the night is still and deep,
And the drowsy heave of ocean
Mutters in its charmed sleep,
The Philosopher and the Philantropist
© James Kenneth Stephen
Searching an infinite Where,
Probing a bottomless When,
