Poems begining by T
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There is a Tavern in the Town
© Anonymous
There is a tavern in the town, in the town,And there my true love sits him down, sits him down,And drinks his wine 'mid laughter free,And never, never thinks of me.
The Song of the Stars
© Anonymous
We are the stars which sing;We sing with our light;We are the birds of fire;We fly over the sky
The Seafarer
© Anonymous
Mæg ic be me sylfum soðgied wrecan, [I can utter a true tale about myself,]siþas secgan, hu ic geswincdagum [tell of my travels, how in laboursome days]earfoðhwile oft þrowade, [a time of hardship I often suffered,]bitre breostceare gebiden hæbbe, [how bitter sorrow in my breast I have borne,]gecunnad in ceole cearselda fela, [made trial on shipboard of many sorrowful abodes; ]atol yþa gewealc, þær mec oft bigeat [dread was the rolling of the waves; there my task was often]nearo nihtwaco æt nacan stefnan, [the hard night-watch at the boat's prow,]þonne he be clifum cnossað
The Red River Valley
© Anonymous
From this valley they say you are going,We will miss your bright eyes and sweet smile,For they say you are taking the sunshineThat brightens our pathway awhile.
The Old Man's Wish
© Anonymous
If I live to be old, for I find I go down,Let this be my fate: In a country townMay I have a warm house, with a stone at the gate,And a cleanly young girl to rub my bald pate
The Mushroom
© Anonymous
The mushroom is a vegetableTo select it few are ableYou won't know them when you meet themYou won't know them 'til you eat themIf in heaven you awakenYou will know you were mistakenAnd the ones that you have eatenWeren't the ones you should have et
The Masque of B-ll--l
© Anonymous
First come I. My name is J-W-TT.There's no knowledge but I know it.I am Master of this College,What I don't know isn't knowledge.
The Leather Bottel
© Anonymous
Now God alone that made all things,Heaven and earth and all that's in,The ships that in the seas do swimTo keep out foes from coming in,Then every one does what he can,All for the good and use of man: And I wish in Heaven his soul may dwell That first devis'd the leather bottel
The Laily Worm and the Mackerel of the Sea
© Anonymous
"I was bat seven year alld Fan my mider she did dee,My father marr{.e}d the ae warst woman The wardle did ever see.
The Hearse Song
© Anonymous
VERSION ##1.2You don't know whether to laugh or cry;1.3For you know some day it'll get you too,1.4And the hearse's next load may consist of -- you.
The Fight at Montgomery's
© Anonymous
They have met -- that small band, resolved to be free,As the fierce winds of Heaven that course over the sea --They have met, in bright hope, with no presage of fear,Tho' the bugle and drum of the foeman they hear:Some seize the dread rifle, some wield the tall pike,For God and their country -- for Freedom they strike,No proud ensign of glory bespeaks their renown,Yet the scorn of defiance now darkens their frown
The Douglas Tragedy
© Anonymous
."Rise up, rise up, now, Lord Douglas,." she says, ."And put on your armour so bright;Let it never be said that a daughter of thine Was married to a lord under night.
The Djinns
© Anonymous
Town, tower. Shore, deep, Where lower Cliffs steep; Waves gray. Where play Winds gay, -- All sleep.
The Braes of Yarrow
© Anonymous
Late at e'en, drinking the wine, And ere they paid the lawing,They set a combat them between, To fight it in the dawing.
The Bells of Hell
© Anonymous
The bells of hell go ting-a-ling-a-lingFor you but not for me:And the little devils how they sing-a-ling-a-lingFor you but not for me
The Old Timer
© Anderson Robert Thompson
Far, far across the rolling swale, I've watched the bison pass;I've seen the lonely prairie trail Wind thro' the rustling grass;I've felt the cool winds sweep the plain Where Nature's hand is free;But now they break o'er leagues of grain, Like ripples o'er the sea
The Prospector's Shanty
© Anderson James
See yonder shanty on the hill;'Tis but an humble biggin',Some ten by six within the wa's--Your head may touch the riggin'--The door stands open to the south,The fire, outside the door;The logs are chinket close wi' fog--And nocht but mud the floor--A knife an' fork, a pewter plate,An' cup o' the same metal,A teaspoon an' a sugar bowl,A frying pan an' kettle;
The bakin' board hangs on the wa',Its purposes are twa-fold--For mixing bread wi' yeast or dough,Or panning oot the braw gold!A log or twa in place o' stools,A bed withoot a hangin',Are feckly a' the furnishin'sThis little house belangin';The laird and tenant o' this sty,I canna name it finer,Lives free an' easy as a lord,Tho' but an "honest miner
