Poems begining by T
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The Innocents
© Peter McArthur
TO make perfect the heaven of mothers
The little children die,
For what care they for the praise of God
Who have sung a lullaby?
To Lady Eleanor Butler and the Honourable Miss Ponsonby,
© William Wordsworth
A stream to mingle with your favorite Dee
Along the Vale of Meditation flows;
So styled by those fierce Britons, pleased to see
In Nature's face the expression of repose,
The Waiting Watchers
© Henry Treece
They shall come in the black weathers
From the heart of the dead embers,
The Social Plan
© Stephen Leacock
So I have got a Social Plan
To take him by the Neck,
And lock him in a Luggage van
And tie on it a check,
Marked MOSCOW VIA TURKESTAN,
Now, how's that for a Social Plan?
There Is A Happy Land
© Andrew Young
There is a happy land, far, far away,
Where saints in glory stand, bright, bright as day.
Oh, how they sweetly sing, worthy is our Savior King,
Loud let His praises ring, praise, praise for aye.
The Grand Question Debated: Whether Hamiltons Bawn Should Be Turned Into A Barrack Or Malt-House
© Jonathan Swift
Thus spoke to my lady the knight full of care,
"Let me have your advice in a weighty affair.
This Hamilton's bawn, while it sticks in my hand
I lose by the house what I get by the land;
The Streams
© John Kenyon
Two streams there were, two streams from separate founts,
Both beautiful to see, and onemost holy;
The Harp
© Virna Sheard
ACROSS the wind-swept spaces of the sky
The harp of all the world is hung on high,
And through its shining strings the swallows fly.
The New Recruit
© Katharine Tynan
The lads were once my comrades,
They stay at home content.
And now's the time of cricket,
They count the days well spent.
The Broom, the Shovel, the Poker and the Tongs
© Edward Lear
The Broom and the Shovel, the Poker and Tongs,
They all took a drive in the Park,
The Captains Well
© John Greenleaf Whittier
From pain and peril, by land and main,
The shipwrecked sailor came back again;
The Beggars Castle
© Richard Monckton Milnes
Those ruins took my thoughts away
To a far eastern land;
Like camels, in a herd they lay
Upon the dull red sand;
I know not that I ever sate
Within a place so desolate.
The Rose Upon My Balcony
© William Makepeace Thackeray
The rose upon my balcony the morning air perfuming,
Was leafless all the winter time and pining for the spring;
You ask me why her breath is sweet, and why her cheek is blooming,
It is because the sun is out and birds begin to sing.
The Spagnoletto. Act V
© Emma Lazarus
DON TOMMASO.
If he still live, now shall we hear of him.
The news I learn will lure him from his covert,
Where'er it lie, to pardon or avenge.
To A Young Girl With An Album
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Gentle Lily with this Album my warmest wishes take,
I know its pages oft thoult ope and prize it for my sake,
For, though a trifling offering, it bears the magic spell
Of coming from the hand of one who loves thee passing well.
The King and the Siren
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
The harsh King-Winter-sat upon the hills,
And reigned and ruled the earth right royally.
The Folly of Brown - By a General Agent
© William Schwenck Gilbert
I knew a boor - a clownish card
(His only friends were pigs and cows and
The poultry of a small farmyard),
Who came into two hundred thousand.
The Lily Bed
© Isabella Valancy Crawford
His cedar paddle, scented, red,
He thrust down through the lily bed;
The Game
© Charles Baudelaire
Old courtesans in washed-out armchairs,
pale, eyebrows blacked, eyes tender, fatal,
simpering still, and from their skinny ears
loosing their waterfalls of stone and metal:
The Four Seasons : Summer
© James Thomson
From brightening fields of ether fair disclosed,
Child of the Sun, refulgent Summer comes,
In pride of youth, and felt through Nature's depth:
He comes attended by the sultry Hours,
