Poems begining by T
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The Ghost
© Richard Harris Barham
There stands a City,- neither large nor small,
Its air and situation sweet and pretty;
The Sea-Change
© Ernest Christopher Dowson
Where river and ocean meet in a great tempestuous frown,
Beyond the bar, where on the dunes the white-capped rollers break;
Above, one windmill stands forlorn on the arid, grassy down:
I will set my sail on a stormy day and cross the bar and seek
That I have sought and never found, the exquisite one crown,
Which crowns one day with all its calm the passionate and the weak.
The Gardener 38
© Anselm Hollo
My love, once upon a time your poet launched a great epic in his mind.
The Black Destrier. A Ballad Of The Third Crusade
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
FIRST 'mid the lion Richard's host,
Sir Aymer fought in Holy Land;
And they loved him well for his honest heart,
And they feared, for his stalwart hand.
Thrice Toss These Oaken Ashes
© Thomas Campion
Thrice toss these oaken ashes in the air,
Thrice sit thou mute in this enchanted chair,
Then thrice three times tie up this true love's knot,
And murmur soft "She will, or she will not."
The Miller's Daughter
© Alfred Tennyson
It is the millers daughter,
And she is grown so dear, so dear,
That I would be the jewel
That trembles at her ear:
For hid in ringlets day and night,
Id touch her neck so warm and white.
The Birth Place of Pleasure
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
At the creation of the Earth
Pleasure, that divinest birth,
From the soil of Heaven did rise,
Wrapped in sweet wild melodies--
The Violet
© Ann Taylor
DOWN in a green and shady bed,
A modest violet grew;
Its stalk was bent, it hung its head
As if to hide from view.
The Book Of The World
© William Henry Drummond
Of this fair volume which we World do name,
If we the sheets and leaves could turn with care,
The Humbled Heart
© Siegfried Sassoon
Go your seeking, soul.
Mine the proven path of time’s foretelling.
Yours accordance with some mysteried whole.
I am but your passion-haunted dwelling.
The Remedy Worse Than The Disease
© Matthew Prior
I sent for Ratcliffe, was so ill,
That other doctors gave me over,
He felt my pulse, prescribed his pill,
And I was likely to recover.
The Wolfe New Ballad Of Jane Roney And Mary Brown
© William Makepeace Thackeray
An igstrawnary tail I vill tell you this veek
I stood in the Court of A'Beckett the Beak,
Vere Mrs. Jane Roney, a vidow, I see,
Who charged Mary Brown with a robbin of she.
The Picture
© Madison Julius Cawein
Above her, pearl and rose the heavens lay:
Around her, flowers flattered earth with gold,
Or down the path in insolence held sway-
Like cavaliers who ride the king's highway-
Scarlet and buff, within a garden old.
The Ghetto: A Mother
© Anna Swirszczynska
Cuddling in the arms her half-asphyxiated baby, howling,
she ran up the staircase of the apartment building that was set ablaze.
From the first floor to the second.
From the second to the third.
From the third to the fourth.
To Live in the Mercy of God
© Denise Levertov
To lie back under the tallest
oldest trees. How far the stems
rise, rise
before ribs of shelter
open!
The Dream Of A Boy Who Lived At Nine-Elms
© William Brighty Rands
Nine grenadiers, with bayonets in their guns;
Nine bakers' baskets, with hot cross buns;
The Blackstone Rangers
© Gwendolyn Brooks
There they are.
Thirty at the corner.
Black, raw, ready.
Sores in the city
that do not want to heal.
The Wealth of the Destitute
© Denise Levertov
How gray and hard the brown feet of the wretched of the earth.
How confidently the crippled from birth
The Harp, And Despair, Of Cowper
© William Lisle Bowles
Sweet bard, whose tones great Milton might approve,
And Shakspeare, from high Fancy's sphere,
