Poems begining by T
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This Is The Night
© Sugawara Takesue no Musume
This is the night when in the ancient Past,
The Herder Star embarked to meet the Weaving One;
In its sweet remembrance the wave rises high in the River of Heaven. [39]
Even so swells my heart to see the famous book.
To The Nightingale, Which The Author Heard Sing On New Year's Day
© William Cowper
Whence it is, that amazed I hear
From yonder withered spray,
This foremost morn of all the year,
The melody of May?
To the Memory of My Beloved Author, Mr. William Shakespeare
© Benjamin Jonson
To draw no envy, Shakespeare, on thy name,
Am I thus ample to thy book and fame;
The Song Of Hiawatha XIII: Blessing The Cornfields
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Sing, O Song of Hiawatha,
Of the happy days that followed,
Two Views Of Withens
© Sylvia Plath
Above whorled, spindling gorse,
Sheepfoot-flattened grasses,
Stone wall and ridgepole rise
Prow-like through blurs
Of fog in that hinterland few
Hikers get to:
The Grate Fire
© Edgar Albert Guest
I'm sorry for a fellow if he cannot look and see
In a grate fire's friendly flaming all the joys which used to be.
The Question
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Now here is where I fail to understand,
And put my question in all reverence,
On bended knee with head most lowly bent,
To the All-High, All-Knowing Providence.
To a Very Young Lady
© Edmund Waller
Why came I so untimely forth
Into a world which, wanting thee,
Could entertain us with no worth
Or shadow of felicity?
That time should me so far remove
From that which I was born to love.
To Mary Who Died In This Opinion
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
Maiden, quench the glare of sorrow
Struggling in thine haggard eye:
Firmness dare to borrow
The Queen's Rival
© Sarojini Naidu
"Radiant of feature and regal of mien,
Seven handmaids meet for the Persian Queen."
. . . . .
The Rain Comes Sobbing to the Door
© Henry Kendall
The night grows dark, and weird, and cold; and thick drops patter on the pane;
There comes a wailing from the sea; the wind is weary of the rain.
To Number 27X
© Robert Fuller Murray
Beloved Peeler! friend and guide
And guard of many a midnight reeler,
None worthier, though the world is wide,
Beloved Peeler.
The Golden Boat
© Rabindranath Tagore
Clouds rumbling in the sky; teeming rain.
I sit on the river bank, sad and alone.
The sheaves lie gathered, harvest has ended,
The river is swollen and fierce in its flow.
As we cut the paddy it started to rain.
The Ocean
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
HE that in venturous barks hath been
A wanderer on the deep,
Can tell of many an awful scene,
Where storms for ever sweep.
The Stable Of Bethlehem
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Twas not a palace proud and fair
He chose for His first home;
The Lament of Toby, The Learned Pig
© Thomas Hood
Oh, heavy day! oh, day of woe!
To misery a poster,
Why was I ever farrowed, why
Not spitted for a roaster?
The Wanderer: A Vision: Canto IV
© Richard Savage
Still o'er my mind wild Fancy holds her sway,
Still on strange visionary land I stray.
Now scenes crowd thick! now indistinct appear!
Swift glide the months, and turn the varying year!
