Poems begining by T
/ page 272 of 916 /
The Spellin'-Bee
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
I NEVER shall furgit that night when father hitched up Dobbin,
An' all us youngsters clambered in an' down the road went bobbin'
To Mary
© William Wordsworth
Let other bards of angels sing,
Bright suns without a spot;
But thou art no such perfect thing:
Rejoice that thou art not!
The Wrongs Of Africa, A Poem. Part The First
© William Roscoe
OFFSPRING of love divine, Humanity!
To who, his eldest born, th'Eternal gave
The Pearl Of Them All
© William Henry Ogilvie
Gaily in front of the stockwhip
The horses come galloping home,
The Burial of William - the Conqueror
© Robert Fuller Murray
Oh, who may this dead warrior be
That to his grave they bring?
`Tis William, Duke of Normandy,
The conqueror and king.
The Lout
© John Clare
For Sunday's play he never makes excuse,
But plays at taw, and buys his Spanish juice.
The Lion's Whelps
© George Essex Evans
There is scarlet on his forehead,
There are scars across his face,
Turkey?
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Only ate one drumstick
At the picnic dance this summer,
Just one little drumstick--
They say I couldn't be dumber.
Tide Turning
© John Frederick Nims
Through salt marsh, grassy channel where the shark's
A rumor &mdash lean, alongside &mdash rides out boat;
For of us off with picnic-things and wine.
Pasty tufty clutters of the mud called pluff,
Sun on the ocean tingles like a kiss.
About the fourth hour of the falling tide.
To A Voice That Had Been Lost
© Samuel Rogers
Vane, quid affectas faciem mihi ponere, pictor?
Aeris et lingua sum filia;
Et, si vis similem pingere, pinge sonum. ~ Ausonius.
To Hilda Of Her Roses
© Grace Hazard Conkling
ENOUGH has been said about roses
To fill thirty thick volumes;
There are as many songs about roses
As there are roses in the world
That includes Mexico . . . the Azores… Oregon…
The Builders
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Staggering slowly, and swaying
Heavily at each slow foot's lift and drag,
With tense eyes careless of the roar and throng
That under jut and jag
The Nightingale In The Study
© James Russell Lowell
'Come forth!' my catbird calls to me,
'And hear me sing a cavatina
That, in this old familiar tree,
Shall hang a garden of Alcina.
To the same Lady upon Mr. Burtons Melancholy
© Henry King
If in this Glass of Humours you do find
The Passions or diseases of your mind,
Here without pain, you safely may endure,
Though not to suffer, yet to read your cure.
The Art Of War. Book V.
© Henry James Pye
Pallas, whose hand can through each devious road
Conduct your steps to Victory's bright abode,
Teach you success in every hour to find,
And for each season form the Hero's mind,
Shall now in verse the prudent art disclose,
To guard your peaceful quarter's calm repose.
The Enchanted Island. By Danby
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
AND there the island lay, the waves around
Had never known a storm; for the north wind
There's not a trace of cloud
© Saigyo
There's not a trace of cloud
Now-and she
Is in my thoughts;
The moon and my heart
Seem to waver.
The Romany Girl
© Ralph Waldo Emerson
The sun goes down, and with him takes
The coarseness of my poor attire;
The fair moon mounts, and aye the flame
Of Gypsy beauty blazes higher.
