Poems begining by T
/ page 551 of 916 /
To -----
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Fair Nature's priestesses! to whom,
In hieroglyph of bud and bloom,
Her mysteries are told;
Who, wise in lore of wood and mead,
The seasons' pictured scrolls can read,
In lessons manifold!
To Mrs. Ward. By The Same.
© Mary Barber
O thou, my beauteous, ever tender Friend,
Thou, on whom all my worldly Joys depend,
Accept these Numbers; and with Pleasure hear
Unstudy'd Truth, which few, alas! can bear;
While conscious Virtue takes the Muse's Part,
Glows on thy Cheek, and warms thy gen'rous Heart.
The Swagman
© Anonymous
Kind friends, pray give attention
To this, my little song.
Some rum things I will mention,
The Rose With Such A Bonny Blush
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
The rose with such a bonny blush,
What has the rose to blush about?
If it's the sun that makes her flush,
What's in the sun to flush about?
The Poet Orders His Tomb
© Edgar Bowers
I summon up Panofskv from his bed
Among the famous dead
To build a tomb which, since I am not read,
Suffers the stones mortality instead;
The Mound By The Lake
© Herman Melville
The grass shall never forget this grave.
When homeward footing it in the sun
The Deacon's Masterpiece Or, The Wonderful
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
End of the wonderful one-hoss shay.
Logic is logic. That's all I say.
The Dong with a Luminous Nose
© Edward Lear
When awful darkness and silence reign
Over the great Gromboolian plain,
Through the long, long wintry nights; -
When the angry breakers roar
The Mysterious Visitor
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
THERE was a sound of hurrying feet,
A tramp on echoing stairs,
There was a rush along the aisles,--
It was the hour of prayers.
The Travail Of Passion
© William Butler Yeats
WHEN the flaming lute-thronged angelic door is wide;
When an immortal passion breathes in mortal clay;
The Orator.
© Robert Crawford
He has a charm that sets each thought to music,
So rare an utterance, whoso hears him feels
Even a prosy theme has poesy
When a magician takes its study on.
The Riot
© Gamaliel Bradford
You may think my life is quiet.
I find it full of change,
An ever-varied diet,
As piquant as 'tis strange.
The Power Of Words Oinos.
© Edgar Allan Poe
You have spoken nothing, my Oinos, for which pardon is to be
demanded. Not even here is knowledge a thing of intuition.
For wisdom, ask of the angels freely, that it may be given!
The Child World
© Edgar Albert Guest
The child world is a wondrous world,
For there the flags of hate are furled,
The Offering
© Edith Nesbit
What will you give me for this heart of mine,
No heart of gold, and yet my dearest treasure?
It has its graces, it can ache and pine,
The Gatekeeper
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
THE sunlight falls on old Quebec,
A city framed of rose and gold,
The Word
© Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev
In the days when the God eternal
Was declining face to the new world,
By the Word they stopped the suns inferno,
And destroyed the towns by the Word.
The Hurricane
© William Cullen Bryant
Lord of the winds! I feel thee nigh,
I know thy breath in the burning sky!
And I wait, with a thrill in every vein,
For the coming of the hurricane!
The Death Of The Poor
© Charles Baudelaire
It is Death, alas, persuades us to keep on living:
the goal of life and the only hope we have,
like an elixir, rousing, intoxicating, giving
the strength to march on towards the grave:
The Panorama
© John Greenleaf Whittier
" A! fredome is a nobill thing!
Fredome mayse man to haif liking.
Fredome all solace to man giffis;
He levys at ese that frely levys!
