Poems begining by T
/ page 244 of 916 /'Twas Thus
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
'TWAS thus, thus is, and thus shall be:
The Beautifulthe Good
Still mirror to the Human Soul
Its own intensitude!
The Borough. Letter XIII: The Alms-House And Trustees
© George Crabbe
feel.
Three seats were vacant while Sir Denys reign'd,
And three such favourites their admission gain'd;
These let us view, still more to understand
The moral feelings of Sir Denys Brand.
The Shapes of Death
© Stephen Spender
Shapes of death haunt life,
Neurosis eclipsing each in special shadow:
Unrequited love not solving
Ones need to become anothers body
To Mrs. Armine Cartwright, At Bath.
© Mary Barber
Lovely Armina, o'er her Books reclin'd,
Impairs her Body, to improve her Mind:
Of Wisdom fond, as others are of Wealth,
In that Pursuit will sacrifice her Health:
The Charge of the Heavy Brigade at Balaclava
© Alfred Tennyson
The charge of the gallant three hundred, the Heavy Brigade!
Down the hill, down the hill, thousands of Russians,
Thousands of horsemen, drew to the valleyand stayd;
For Scarlett and Scarletts three hundred were riding by
The Ballad of Ahmed Shah
© Rudyard Kipling
This is the ballad of Ahmed Shah
Dealer in tats in the Sudder Bazar,
By the gate that leads to the Gold Minar
How he was done by a youth from Morar.
The Feud: A Border Ballad
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
They sat by their wine in the tavern that night,
But not in good fellowship true:
The Rhenish was strong and the Burgundy bright,
And hotter the argument grew.
To The Dandelion
© James Russell Lowell
Dear common flower, that grow'st beside the way,
Fringing the dusty road with harmless gold,
The Power Of Words
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
'Tis a strange mystery, the power of words!
Life is in them, and death. A word can send
The Record
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
HE sleeps, his head upon his sword,
His soldier's cloak a shroud;
His church-yard is the open field,--
Three times it has been plough'd:
The Red-Tressed Maiden
© Roderic Quinn
RED she is in a robe of sable,
Rosy with pictures and tales to tell:
She is a fairy, and yet no fable,
Weaving the dreams that we love so well.
The Forgotten
© Charles Harpur
He shone in the senate, the camp, and the grove,
The mirror of manhood, the darling of love.
He fought for his country, the star of the brave,
And died for its weal when to die was to save.
To Thomas Moore (My Boat Is On The Shore)
© George Gordon Byron
I.
My boat is on the shore,
And my bark is on the sea;
But before I go, Tom Moore,
Here's a double health to thee!
Treachery
© Madison Julius Cawein
Came a spicy smell of showers
On the purple wings of night,
And a pearl-encrusted crescent
On the lake looked still and white,
While a sound of distant singing
From the vales rose sad and light.
The Ploughman
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
CLEAR the brown path, to meet his coulter's gleam!
Lo! on he comes, behind his smoking team,
With toil's bright dew-drops on his sunburnt brow,
The lord of earth, the hero of the plough!
The Vision By The Sea
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
I.
A HAUNTING face! with strange, ethereal eyes,
Deep as unfathomed gulfs of tranquil skies
When o'er their brightness a vague mist is drawn,
The Maids Of Elfin-Mere
© William Allingham
When the spinning-room was here
Came Three Damsels, clothed in white,
To A Dead Journalist
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
The busy trade of life is over now,
The intricate toil which was so hard for bread,
The strife each day renewed 'neath this poor brow
By this frail hand to be interpreted,