Poems begining by T
/ page 386 of 916 /
Tale IV
© George Crabbe
harm;
Give me thy pardon," and he look'd alarm:
Meantime the prudent Dinah had contrived
Her soul to question, and she then revived.
"See! my good friend," and then she raised her
The Light That Is Felt
© John Greenleaf Whittier
A tender child of summers three,
Seeking her little bed at night,
Paused on the dark stair timidly.
"Oh, mother! Take my hand," said she,
"And then the dark will all be light."
The Jessamine And The Morning-Glory
© Madison Julius Cawein
I.
On a sheet of silver the morning-star lay
The Rose Delima
© William Henry Drummond
"On Anticosti shore we hear de breaker roar
An' reef of dead Man's Islan' too we know,
But we never miss de way, no matter night or
day,
De Rose Delima schooner an' Captinne
Baribeau."
The Banished Bejant
© Robert Fuller Murray
from the unpublished remains of Edgar Allan Poe
In the oldest of our alleys,
By good bejants tenanted,
Once a man whose name was Wallace
The Wind That Lifts The Fog
© William Henry Drummond
Over de sea de schooner boat
_Star of de Sout'_ is all afloat,
The Rivals
© Carolyn Wells
Two well-built men, neither giant nor dwarf,
Were Monsieur Elims and Mynheer Nworf.
The Braes of Yarrow
© William Hamilton
BUSK ye, busk ye, my bonnie, bonnie bride!
Busk ye, busk ye, my winsome marrow!
Ten Types of Hospital Visitor
© Charles Causley
The second appears, a melancholy splurge
Of theological colours;
Taps heavily about like a healthy vulture
Distributing deep-frozen hope.
The Angel In The House. Book II. Canto IV.
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
III Valour misdirected
I'll hunt for dangers North and South,
To prove my love, which sloth maligns!
What seems to say her rosy mouth?
I'm not convinced by proofs but signs.
The Campaign, A Poem, To His Grace The Duke Of Marlborough
© Joseph Addison
While crowds of princes your deserts proclaim,
Proud in their number to enrol your name;
To Caroline: When I Hear That You Express An Affection So Warm
© George Gordon Byron
When I hear that you express an affection so warm,
Ne'er think, my beloved, that I do not believe;
For your lip would the soul of suspicion disarm,
And your eye beams a ray which can never deceive.
The Ruines of Time
© Edmund Spenser
But whie (vnhappie wight) doo I thus crie,
And grieue that my remembrance quite is raced
Out of the knowledge of posteritie,
And all my antique moniments defaced?
Sith I doo dailie see things highest placed,
So soone as fates their vitall thred haue neuer borne.
The Lamentations Of Jeremy, For The Most Part According To Tremellus
© John Donne
I. HOW sits this city, late most populous,
Thus solitary, and like a widow thus ?
Amplest of nations, queen of provinces
She was, who now thus tributary is ?
To Robert Barber Esq; Deputy To The Treasurer's Remembrancer In The Court Of Exchequer
© Mary Barber
Whilst Gay's unhappy Fate thy Ear attends,
Thy Heart, indignant, scorns his faithless Friends;
Thy gen'rous Heart, which never learnt the Way,
A Friend or to deceive, or to betray:
Though All The Fates
© Henry David Thoreau
THOUGH all the fates should prove unkind,
Leave not your native land behind.
The Little Old Man
© Edgar Albert Guest
The little old man with the curve in his back
And the eyes that are dim and the skin that is slack,
So slack that it wrinkles and rolls on his cheeks,
With a thin little voice that goes "crack!" when he speaks,
Never goes to the store but that right at his feet
Are all of the youngsters who live on the street.
