Poems begining by T
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The Figure-Head
© Herman Melville
The _Charles-and-Emma_ seaward sped,
(Named from the carven pair at prow,)
He so smart, and a curly head,
She tricked forth as a bride knows how:
Pretty stem for the port, I trow!
The Author's Early Life
© Julia A Moore
I will write a sketch of my early life,
It will be of childhood day,
To know just how He sufferedwould be dear
© Emily Dickinson
To know just how He sufferedwould be dear
To know if any Human eyes were near
To whom He could entrust His wavering gaze
Until it settle broadon Paradise
The Rock Of Cader Idris
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
I LAY on that rock where the storms have their dwelling,
The birthplace of phantoms, the home of the cloud;
To K.M.D.
© James Clerk Maxwell
In the buds, before they burst,
Leaves and flowers are moulded;
Closely pressed they lie at first,
Exquisitely folded.
The Imprisoned Sea-Winds
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
VOICES of strange sea breezes caught,
Half tangled in the pine-tree tall,
With ocean's tenderest music fraught,
Serenely rise, and sweetly fall.
The Family's Homely Man
© Edgar Albert Guest
And always it's the homely man that happens in to mend
The little toys the youngsters break, for he's the children's friend.
And he's the one that sits all night to watch beside the dead,
And sends the worn-out sorrowers and broken hearts to bed.
The family wouldn't be complete without him night or day,
To smooth the little troubles out and drive the cares away.
The Men Who Live It Down
© Henry Lawson
I have sinned, but as a man might; like a man Ill rise again
From long nights of mental torture, from long days of care and pain.
Pass me by with eyes averted, with a shrug or with a frown,
But their heads shall bow in ashes long ere my head shall go down!
The Pick by Cecilia Woloch : American Life in Poetry #236 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
Cecilia Woloch teaches in California, and when she’s not with her students she’s off to the Carpathian Mountains of Poland, to help with the farm work. But somehow she resisted her wanderlust just long enough to make this telling snapshot of her father at work.
The Pick
I watched him swinging the pick in the sun,
The Destruction Of Sennacherib
© George Gordon Byron
I.
The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,
The Phantom Light Of The Baie Des Chaleurs
© Arthur Wentworth Hamilton Eaton
Strange is the tale that the fishermen tell,
They say that a ball of fire fell
Straight from the sky, with crash and roar,
Lighting the bay from shore to shore;
That the ship, with a shudder and a groan,
Sank through the waves to the caverns lone
The Moor
© Ralph Hodgson
The world's gone forward to its latest fair
And dropt an old man done with by the way,
To the Nightingale
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Sister of love-lorn Poets, Philomel!
How many Bards in city garret pent,
The Phantom Ship. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In Mather's Magnalia Christi,
Of the old colonial time,
The Unsung Heroes
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
A song for the unsung heroes who rose in the country's need,
When the life of the land was threatened by the slaver's cruel greed,
For the men who came from the cornfield, who came from the plough and the flail,
Who rallied round when they heard the sound of the mighty man of the rail.
To The Boy
© Edgar Albert Guest
I have no wish, my little lad,
To climb the towering heights of fame.
To Sir William Davenant
© Abraham Cowley
UPON HIS TWO FIRST BOOKS OF GONDIBERT
FINISHED BEFORE HIS VOYAGE TO AMERICA.
The Cathedral Of Rheims
© Emile Verhaeren
He who walks through the meadows of Champagne
At noon in Fall, when leaves like gold appear,
