Poems begining by T

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The Ballad Of The Landlord

© Langston Hughes


Landlord, landlord,
My roof has sprung a leak.
Don't you 'member I told you about it
Way last week?

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The Cry Of Mammon

© Leon Gellert

The dazzling earth is rich with easy thrones.
The corn is golden in the golden sun.
The amber day is set with blazing stones,
And yellow kingdoms waiting to be won.

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To The Art of Edgar Degas

© David Campbell

Beachcomber on the shores of tears
Limning the gestures of defeat
In dancers, whores, and opera-stars –
The lonely, lighted various street

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The Kalevala - Rune XL

© Elias Lönnrot

BIRTH OF THE HARP.


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The Four Elements.

© Anne Bradstreet

The Fire, Air, Earth and water did contest

Which was the strongest, noblest and the best,

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To Pennsylvania

© John Greenleaf Whittier

O STATE prayer-founded! never hung
Such choice upon a people's tongue,
Such power to bless or ban,
As that which makes thy whisper Fate,

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The Comet

© Albert Durrant Watson

SPECTRAL, mysterious, flame-like thing
  Cleaving the western night,
Waking from chrysalis-dream to fling
Out of thy spirit's long chastening
  Far-flashing streams of light,

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The Old Scotish Cavalier

© William Edmondstoune Aytoun

I.

 Come listen to another song,

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The Rose-Bud

© William Shenstone

"See, Daphne, see!" Florelio cried,
"And learn the sad effects of pride;
Yon shelter'd rose, how safe conceal'd!
How quickly blasted when reveal'd!

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The Whip-Poor-Will

© Henry Van Dyke

Do you remember, father,--

  It seems so long ago,--

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The Borough. Letter III: The Vicar--The Curate

© George Crabbe

THE VICAR.

WHERE ends our chancel in a vaulted space,

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To G. M. T.

© George MacDonald

The sun is sinking in the west,
Long grow the shadows dim;
Have patience, sister, to be blest,
Wait patiently for Him.

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The Stealing Of The Mare - IV

© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

Said the Narrator:
Now when the Princess Alia had made her petition to the Maker of the Heavens, and her deliverance had been wrought by Abu Zeyd with the slaying of her enemies, and he had said to her, ``Return and say no word of this to thy friends,'' she besought him, saying: ``Nay, but by Him who commandeth all power, I will not return home until thou hast told me of thyself, who thou art and of what tribe and nation of the Arabs.'' But he said to her, ``Know, O Lady, that I am of the race of the Jinns and that our people are indeed Muslims obeying the Lord of the Universe, and I was sent to thee from the land of Syria to deliver thee from that traitor, who was of the children of crime.'' But she answered him, ``Yet are not the Jinns of thy quality. Rather tell me the truth. I adjure thee by Him who created thee and in whose shadow thou didst grow up, and who hath wrought blessings through thy hand.'' And being thus adjured he said, ``O Alia, there were peril for me if I told thee truly all.'' But she answered, ``Be not afraid. Though thou wert the Prince Abu Zeyd himself, the Helali, yet shouldst thou have security, ay, even he that great horseman.'' Then said he to her, ``Stretch forth thy hand that we may make a covenant together, so shall God be our witness.'' And she said, ``As thou wilt.'' Then they made them a covenant together in the name of God the Almighty, and their souls were loosed of their burden. And Abu Zeyd spoke to her and told her all, and said, ``It was indeed none other than I that slew thy uncle, nor came I with a better purpose than to steal away that mare.'' And she said, ``Now is my heart light and my trouble ended, and as for the mare, look for her at my hand and not through another road; for my uncle and my people, are they not at thy disposal? And if there hath been evil how shall we take vengeance now, for I and my wealth and my kindred, all that is mine is thine. And thou shalt not find us niggardly of our kindness to thee, nor shall we refuse thee aught, inasmuch as all that I might do for thee, whether I fast or whether I pray, whether I give or whether I bestow, never might I make up to thee for what I have received at thy hand. Therefore shall there evermore be kindness between us. Ay, and if thou be willing, come thou now to our camp.'' But he said to her, ``O Alia, O fairest lady, know that this I cannot do, this I desire not.'' And when Alia heard this word, it deepened her regard for him, and she praised God who had ordered it that she should meet with one so honourable. And she perceived that to one such as was this brave knight she could entrust her soul and all that was hers. And she entreated him, ``Come with me to the tribe.'' But he, ``Never can I come with thee.'' And still she besought him, saying, ``Know this, O Hejazi Salameh, that I will not leave thee here nor depart from thee. And as to the mare, her will I deliver to thee and whatsoever else thou demandest. Nay, though it were my soul I would not deny it.'' But he answered her, ``My mind is changed about the mare, nor would I now take her, for I fear lest they seeking and not finding her should suspect thee, O Alia, and trouble should come to thee of thy father. And have we not the grey mare of Diab with us, the Shohba, whom we may give to the lady, nor run this great risk for her sake?'' But Alia insisting said, ``Nay, that shall not be, nor care I what may come, not though I should taste of the cup of evil things. But if thou wilt not take the mare, then will I kill her and myself with her, and on thy head be it for her and for me.'' And Abu Zeyd consented, saying: ``I will do what thee seemeth good. So may God prosper thy designing.''
And the Narrator returned to his singing of that which happened between the Princess Alia and the Prince Abu Zeyd.

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The Olive Of Peace

© James Henry Leigh Hunt

Divinest of Olives, O, never was seen
A bloom so enchanting, a verdure so green!
Sweet, sweet do thy Beauties entwiningly smile
In the Vine-tree of France and the Oak of our Isle!
  Beam on the day,
  Thou Olive gay, &c.

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The Outside Track

© Henry Lawson

  But I’ll try my luck for a cheque Out Back,
  Then a last good-bye to the bush;
  For my heart’s away on the Outside Track,
  On the track of the steerage push.

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The Lost Path

© James Whitcomb Riley

Alone they walked--their fingers knit together,
  And swaying listlessly as might a swing
  Wherein Dan Cupid dangled in the weather
  Of some sun-flooded afternoon of Spring.

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To A Romantic

© Allen Tate

To Robert Penn Warren

You hold your eager head

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The Mystery Of A Year

© Archibald Lampman

A little while, a year agone,
  I knew her for a romping child,
A dimple and a glance that shone
  With idle mischief when she smiled.

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The Autumn Waste

© Archibald Lampman

There is no break in all the wide grey sky,

Nor light on any field, and the wind grieves,

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The Channel Tunnel: Sonnets

© Algernon Charles Swinburne

NOT for less love, all glorious France, to thee,

  ‘Sweet enemy’ called in days long since at end.