Poems begining by T
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The Chantry Of The Cherubim
© Francis William Bourdillon
O CHANTRY of the Cherubim,
Down-looking on the stream!
Tonight
© Faiz Ahmed Faiz
Do not strike the chord of sorrow tonight!
Days burning with pain turn to ashes.
Who knows what happens tomorrow?
Last night is lost; tomorrow's frontier wiped out:
The Prophet
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
HE trod upon the heights; the rarer air
Which common people seek, yet cannot bear,
Fed his high soul and kindled in his eye
The fire of one who cries "I prophesy!"
The Holy Land. From Lamartine
© John Greenleaf Whittier
I have not felt, o'er seas of sand,
The rocking of the desert bark;
The Monks Of Basle
© John Hay
I tore this weed from the rank, dark soil
Where it grew in the monkish time,
I trimmed it close and set it again
In a border of modern rhyme.
The Two Summers
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
THERE is a golden season in our year,
Between October's hale and lusty cheer,
And the hoar frost of winter's empire drear;
Which, like a fairy flood of mystic tides,
The Fountain
© William Cullen Bryant
Fountain, that springest on this grassy slope,
Thy quick cool murmur mingles pleasantly,
The Beauteous Terrorist
© Sir Henry Parkes
Soft as the morning's pearly light,
Where yet may rise the thunder-cloud,
Her gentle face was ever bright
With noble thought and purpose proud.
The Whaups (To S R Crockett)
© Robert Louis Stevenson
BLOWS the wind to-day, and the sun and the rain are flying
Blows the wind on the moors to-day and now,
The Pang More Sharp Than All. An Allegory
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
I.
He too has flitted from his secret nest,
Hope's last and dearest child without a name!--
Has flitted from me, like the warmthless flame,
The Old Professor
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
See, there he goes, a-pulling his long beard;
With frowning brow, and far and absent gaze,
The Choice
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
This Consul Casementhe who heard the cry
Of stricken peopleand who in his fight
The Broken Tower
© Hart Crane
The bell-rope that gathers God at dawn
Dispatches me as though I dropped down the knell
Of a spent day - to wander the cathedral lawn
From pit to crucifix, feet chill on steps from hell.
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part II: To Juliet: XXIII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
ASKING FOR HER HEART
Give me thy heart, Juliet, give me thy heart!
I have a need of it, an absolute need,
Because my own heart has thus long been dead.
To a Poet
© Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev
Let verse of yours be flexible, but strong,
Strong as a poplar under valley's cover,
Strong as the earth under a plough, long,
Strong as a girl, who never knew a lover.
The Suliote Mother
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
She stood upon the loftiest peak,
Amidst the clear blue sky,
A bitter smile was on her cheek,
And a dark flash in her eye.
The Tangled Skein
© William Schwenck Gilbert
Try we life-long, we can never
Straighten out life's tangled skein,
The Seventh Day
© Yehudah HaLevi
Forget not the day of the Sabbath,
Its mention is like a pleasant offering.
