Poems begining by T
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To Stella On Her Birth-Day, 1721-2
© Jonathan Swift
While, Stella, to your lasting praise
The Muse her annual tribute pays,
While I assign myself a task
Which you expect, but scorn to ask;
The Death of Artemidora
© Walter Savage Landor
ARTEMIDORA! Gods invisible,
While thou art lying faint along the couch,
Have tied the sandal to thy veined feet,
And stand beside thee, ready to convey
The Outerfrom the Inner
© Emily Dickinson
The Outerfrom the Inner
Derives its Magnitude
'Tis Duke, or Dwarf, according
As is the Central Mood
Thiepval Wood
© Edmund Blunden
The tired air groans as the heavies swing over, the river-hollows boom;
The shell-fountains leap from the swamps, and with wildfire and fume
The Prayse Of The Needle
© John Taylor
To all dispersed sorts of arts and trades
I write the needles prayse (that never fades).
The Parting Word
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
I must leave thee, lady sweet
Months shall waste before we meet;
The Broken Tryst
© James Russell Lowell
Walking alone where we walked together,
When June was breezy and blue,
I watch in the gray autumnal weather
The leaves fall inconstant as you.
The Strength Of Fields
© James Dickey
What field-forms can be,
Outlying the small civic light-decisions over
A man walking near home?
Men are not where he is
Exactly now, but they are around him around him like the strength
The Turn Of The Road
© Roderic Quinn
WHERE confident, calm I strode,
I walk with hesitant feet;
For at yonder turn of the road
What shall I meet?
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 2. The Spanish Jew's Tale; Kambalu
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Into the city of Kambalu,
By the road that leadeth to Ispahan,
At the head of his dusty caravan,
Laden with treasure from realms afar,
Baldacca and Kelat and Kandahar,
Rode the great captain Alau.
The Old Year
© Henry Kendall
IT PASSED like the breath of the night-wind away,
It fled like a mist at the dawn of the day;
It lasted its moment, then backward was hurled,
Another increase to the age of the world.
The Trees Of Life
© Jones Very
For those who worship Thee there is no death,
For all they do is but with Thee to dwell;
To The Memory Of Heber
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
If it be sad to speak of treasures gone,
Of sainted genius call'd too soon away,
Of light, from this world taken, while it shone
Yet kindling onward to the perfect day;
How shall our grief, if mournful these things be,
Flow forth, oh, Thou of many gifts! for thee?
The Late last Rook
© Ralph Hodgson
The old gilt vane and spire receive
The last beam eastward striking;
The Soul
© Madison Julius Cawein
A heritage of hopes and fears
And dreams and memory,
And vices of ten thousand years
God gives to thee.
The Unreturning Spring
© Robert Laurence Binyon
A leaf on the gray sand--path
Fallen, and fair with rime!
A yellow leaf, a scarlet leaf,
And a green leaf ere its time.
