Poems begining by T
/ page 531 of 916 /The Hell-Bound Train
© Anonymous
A Texas cowboy lay down on a barroom floor,
Having drunk so much he could drink no more;
So he fell asleep with a troubled brain
To dream that he rode on a hell-bound train.
The Sad Years
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Is this, indeed, Thy man, that Thou hast made,
Is this Thy likeness, and are these Thy ways?
Oh, Lord of pity, quench these flaming hours,
Restore to peace these sad and tortured years
Wherein Thou breakest the frail heart of man
Or he the heart of God.
The Dedication Poem
© Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
Dedication Poem on the reception of the annex to
the home for aged colored people, from the bequest of
Mr. Edward T. Parker.
The Outpost
© Jessie Pope
The dying sunset's slanting rays
Incarnadine the soldier's deed,
His sturdy countenance betrays
The bull-dog breed.
The Nut-Brown Ale
© John Marston
THE nut-brown ale, the nut-brown ale,
Puts down all drink when it is stale!
The Little White Rabbit
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
May I go to the field, said the little white rabbit,
Where the corn grows sweet and high?
The Good Joan
© Lizette Woodworth Reese
A long the thousand roads of France,
Now there, and here, swift as a glance,
A cloud, a mist blown down the sky,
Good Joan of Arc goes riding by.
The Baby's Vengeance
© William Schwenck Gilbert
Weary at heart and extremely ill
Was PALEY VOLLAIRE of Bromptonville,
In a dirty lodging, with fever down,
Close to the Polygon, Somers Town.
The Dead Hand
© George MacDonald
The witch lady walked along the strand,
Heard a roaring of the sea,
On the edge of a pool saw a dead man's hand,
Good thing for a witch lady!
The Avaricious
© Theocritus
I would be as great a toil to count
The waves upon the shore, when the wind
Drives them to land along the surface
Of the green sea, or to wash
To S. C.
© John Kenyon
The chords thy ready fingers used to move
At fond request of dear domestic love,
The Wheel of the Breast
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Through rivers of veins on the nameless quest
The tide of my life goes hurriedly sweeping,
Till it reaches that curious wheel o' the breast,
The human heart, which is never at rest.
The Hill
© Rupert Brooke
Breathless, we flung us on the windy hill,
Laughed in the sun, and kissed the lovely grass.
True Johnny
© Robert Graves
Mary: Johnny, sweetheart, can you be true
To all those famous vows you've made?
The war Widow
© Alfred Noyes
Black-veiled, black-gowned, she rides in bus and train,
With eyes that fill too listlessly for tears.
Her waxen hands clasp and unclasp again.
_Good News_, they cry. She neither sees nor hears.
The Dead
© John Le Gay Brereton
Farewell, high-hearted friends, for God is dead
If such as you can die and fare not well
If when you fall your gallant spirit fail.
You are with us still, and can we be adread
Though hell gape, bloody-fanged and horrible?
Glory and hope of us who love you, Hail!
The Procreation Sonnets (1 - 17)
© William Shakespeare
The Procreation Sonnets are grouped together
because they all address the same young man,
and all encourage him - with a variety of
themes and arguements - to marry and father
children (hence 'procreation').
The Transvaal Contingent
© Anonymous
From Bluff to Cape Maria New Zealand is agreed;
She thanks her Representatives for generous thought and deed.
She turns with joy from squabbles - from Party's petty aim -
To feel she still has statesman well worthy of the name.