Poems begining by T
/ page 558 of 916 /
To C.C.C.
© Robert Fuller Murray
Oh for the nights when we used to sit
In the firelight's glow or flicker,
With the gas turned low and our pipes all lit,
And the air fast growing thicker;
Till Deathis narrow Loving
© Emily Dickinson
Till Deathis narrow Loving
The scantest Heart extant
Will hold you till your privilege
Of Finitenessbe spent
Thoughts Suggested By A College Examination
© George Gordon Byron
High in the midst, surrounded by his peers,
MAGNUS his ample front sublime up rears:
Placed on his chair of state, he seems a god.
While Sophs and Freshmen tremble at his nod.
The Hospitable Caledonian And The Thankless Viper
© Guy Wetmore Carryl
A Caledonian piper
Who was walking on the wold
The Indian Cupid
© Louisa Stuart Costello
Often and long, on the summer sea,
In the moonlight have I watched for thee
When the glittering beam was downward thrown,
And each wave with a crest of diamond shone.
I have seen the thin clouds sail along,
And I raised, to welcome thee, many a song;
That Night It Rained
© Victor Marie Hugo
That night it rained, the tide was high,
A heavy, grey fog covered all the coast,
The Judgement Of Venus
© Matthew Prior
When Kneller's works, of various grace,
Were to fair Venus shown,
The Goddess spied in every face
Some features of her own.
The Angler's Ballad
© Charles Cotton
AWAY to the brook,
All your tackle out look,
Here's a day that is worth a year's wishing;
See that all things be right,
For 'tis a very spite
To want tools when a man goes a-fishing.
The Jailer
© Sylvia Plath
My night sweats grease his breakfast plate.
The same placard of blue fog is wheeled into position
With the same trees and headstones.
Is that all he can come up with,
The rattler of keys?
The Evening Primrose
© Dorothy Parker
You know the bloom, unearthly white,
That none has seen by morning light-
The White-Footed Deer
© William Cullen Bryant
It was a hundred years ago,
When, by the woodland ways,
The traveller saw the wild deer drink,
Or crop the birchen sprays.
Translation From Millevoye
© Frances Anne Kemble
Fallen from thy parent bough,
Poor wither'd leaf, where goest thou?
From the mountain to the vale,
From the forest to the hill
I flutter, carried by the gale,
Hither, thither, at its will.
The Deer-Stone
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
And in a hollowed stone it shed
Its milk so warm and white,
And then, all timid, stood apart
To watch the babe's delight.
The Princess: A Medley: Ask me no more
© Alfred Tennyson
Ask me no more: thy fate and mine are seal'd:
I strove against the stream and all in vain:
Let the great river take me to the main:
No more, dear love, for at a touch I yield;
Ask me no more.
The Viking's Song
© Sir Henry Newbolt
When I thy lover first
Shook out my canvas free
And like a pirate burst
Into that dreaming sea,
The land knew no such thirst
As then tormented me.
