Poems begining by T
/ page 473 of 916 /
The Emigration to New Zealand
© Henry Lawson
Ive just received a letter from a chum in Maoriland,
Hes working down in Auckland where he days hes doing grand,
The climates cooler there, but hearts are warmer, says my chum,
He sends the passage money, and he says Id better come.
(Id like to see his face again, Id like to grip his hand),
He says hes sure that Ill get on first-rate in Maoriland.
The Sparrow Club
© William Barnes
Last night the merry farmers' sons,
Vrom biggest down to leäst, min,
The Shrubbery
© William Cowper
Oh happy shades—to me unblest!
Friendly to peace, but not to me!
How ill the scene that offers rest,
And heart that cannot rest, agree!
To a Marsh Hawk in Spring
© Henry David Thoreau
There is health in thy gray wing,
Health of natures furnishing.
The Crown
© Katharine Tynan
She had twelve stars for diadem;
She had for footstool the full moon;
Her quiet eyes, outshining them,
Kept memories of the night and noon
And the still moms at Nazareth
When in her arms the Child drew breath.
The Wound-Dresser
© Walt Whitman
But in silence, in dreams’ projections,
While the world of gain and appearance and mirth goes on,
So soon what is over forgotten, and waves wash the imprints off the sand,
With hinged knees returning I enter the doors, (while for you up there,
Whoever you are, follow without noise and be of strong heart.)
The Heart Courageous
© Virna Sheard
Who hath a heart courageous
Will fight with right good cheer;
For well may he his foes out-face
Who owns no foe called Fear!
Town Eclogues: Tuesday; St. James's Coffee-House
© Lady Mary Wortley Montagu
SILLIANDER and PATCH. THOU so many favours hast receiv'd,
Wondrous to tell, and hard to be believ'd,
Oh ! H—— D, to my lays attention lend,
Hear how two lovers boastingly contend ;
Like thee successful, such their bloomy youth,
Renown'd alike for gallantry and truth.
To the Lord General Cromwell
© Patrick Kavanagh
Cromwell, our chief of men, who through a cloud,
Not of war only, but detractions rude,
The Silver Swan
© Pierre Reverdy
The silver swan, who living had no note,
When death approached, unlocked her silent throat;
Leaning her breast against the reedy shore,
Thus sung her first and last, and sung no more:
“Farewell, all joys; Oh death, come close mine eyes;
More geese than swans now live, more fools than wise.”
The Chinaman
© Anonymous
What brings you here, John Chinaman,
Why come to New South Wales?
Why do you sail when breezes fan
The north side of your sails?
The Pool
© Robert Creeley
My embarrassment at his nakedness,
at the pool’s edge,
and my wife, with his,
standing, watching—
The Chosen
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
CALLED to a way too high for me, I lean
Out from my narrow window o'er the street,
and know the fields I cannot see are green,
And guess the songs I cannot hear are sweet.
The Bursting of the Boom
© Henry Lawson
The captains easy-going when Fremantle comes in sight;
He cant say when youll get ashoreperhaps tomorrow night;
Your coins are few, the charges high; you must not linger here
Youll get your boxes from the hold when shes longside the pier.
The launch will foul the gangway, and the trembling bulwarks loom
Above a fleet of harbour craftat the Bursting of the Boom.
