Poems begining by T
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The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part IV: Vita Nova: CVIII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
A FOREST IN BOSNIA
Spirit of Trajan! What a world is here,
What remnant of old Europe in this wood,
Of life primaeval rude as in the year
To a Sky-Lark
© William Wordsworth
Alas! my journey, rugged and uneven,
Through prickly moors or dusty ways must wind;
But hearing thee, or others of thy kind,
As full of gladness and as free of heaven,
I, with my fate contented, will plod on,
And hope for higher raptures, when life's day is done.
The Garden Of Gethsemane
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
The place is fair and tranquil, Judaeas cloudless sky
Smiles down on distant mountain, on glade and valley nigh,
And odorous winds bring fragrance from palm-tops darkly green,
And olive trees whose branches wave softly oer the scene.
The Hill Pines Were Sighing
© Robert Seymour Bridges
The hill pines were sighing,
O'ercast and chill was the day:
A mist in the valley lying
Blotted the pleasant May.
The short Wooing
© Henry King
Like an Oblation set before a Shrine,
Fair One! I offer up this heart of mine.
Whether the Saint accept my Gift or no,
Ile neither fear nor doubt before I know.
The Wood And The Shore
© Muriel Stuart
The low bay melts into a ring of silver,
And slips it on the shore's reluctant finger
To June. Written After An Ungenial May
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
I'll heed no more the poet's lay-
His false-fond song shall charm no more-
My heart henceforth shall but adore
The real, not the misnamed May.
The Magic Purse
© Madison Julius Cawein
WHAT is the gold of mortal-kind
To that men find
Deep in the poet's mind!
That magic purse
The Golden Legend: III. A Street In Strasburg
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
_Crier of the dead (ringing a bell)._ Wake! wake!
All ye that sleep!
Pray for the Dead!
Pray for the Dead!
The Little White Sun
© Annie Campbell Huestis
THE sky had a gray, gray face,
The touch of the mist was chill,
The earth was an eerie place,
For the wind moaned over the hill;
But the brown earth laughed, and the sky turned blue,
When the little white sun came peeping through.
The Friendly Trees
© Henry Van Dyke
I will sing of the bounty of the big trees,
They are the green tents of the Almighty,
He hath set them up for comfort and for shelter.
To his Friends of Christ-Church upon the mislike of the Marriage of the Arts acted at Woodstock
© Henry King
But is it true, the Court mislik't the Play,
That Christ-Church and the Arts have lost the day;
That Ignoramus should so far excell,
Their Hobby-horse from ours hath born the Bell?
The Hammock's Complaint
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Who thinks how desolate and strange
To me must seem the autumn's change,
When housed in attic or in chest,
A lonely and unwilling guest,
I lie through nights of bleak December,
And think in silence, and remember.
To Mrs. ---
© Mary Barber
Celia, when you oblige again.
Subdue that haughty Eye:
Rather than Insolence fustain,
Who would not wish to die?
A grateful Heart will own the Debt,
But, O! must feel it with Regret.
The Shadows
© George MacDonald
My little boy, with smooth, fair cheeks,
And dreamy, large, brown eyes,
Not often, little wisehead, speaks,
But hearing, weighs and tries.
To Songs At the Marriage Of The Lord Fauconberg And The Lad
© Andrew Marvell
Endymion
Cynthia, O Cynthia, turn thine Ear,
nor scorn Endymions plaints to hear.
As we our Flocks, so you command
The fleecy Clouds with silver wand.
The Vine
© Henry James Pye
Like clustering tents upon the embattled mead,
See Vitis thick her small pavilions spread.
