Poems begining by T
/ page 580 of 916 /
The Ferryman
© Emile Verhaeren
The ferryman, a green reed 'twixt his teeth,
With hand on oar, against the current strong
Had rowed and rowed so long.
To lose one's faithsurpass
© Emily Dickinson
To lose one's faithsurpass
The loss of an Estate
Because Estates can be
Replenishedfaith cannot
To-- Yet look on me
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Yet look on me -- take not thine eyes away,
Which feed upon the love within mine own,
Which is indeed but the reflected ray
Of thine own beauty from my spirit thrown.
The Glory of the Garden
© Rudyard Kipling
Our England is a garden that is full of stately views,
Of borders, beds and shrubberies and lawns and avenues,
The Shepherd's Week : Friday; or, The Dirge
© John Gay
Grubbinol.
Ah Bumkinet! since thou from hence wert gone,
From these sad plains all merriment is flown;
Should I reveal my grief 'twould spoil thy cheer,
And make thine eye o'erflow with many a tear.
The Old Manor House
© Ada Cambridge
An old house, crumbling half away, all barnacled and lichen-grown,
Of saddest, mellowest, softest grey,-with a grand history of its own-
Grand with the work and strife and tears of more than half a thousand years.
The Violet-Gatherer (From The Danish Of Oehlenslaeger)
© George Borrow
Pale the moon her light was shedding
Oer the landscape far and wide;
Calmly bright, all ills undreading,
Emma wanderd by my side.
The Lord Is My Portion
© John Newton
From pole to pole let others roam,
And search in vain for bliss;
My soul is satisfied at home,
The Lord my portion is.
The Wind Of Summer
© Madison Julius Cawein
From the hills and far away
All the long, warm summer day
Comes the wind and seems to say:
To A Blossoming Pear Tree
© James Wright
I flinched. Both terrified,
We slunk away,
Each in his own way dodging
The cruel darts of the cold.
The Rhodora: On Being Asked, Whence Is The Flower?
© Ralph Waldo Emerson
In May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes,
I found the fresh Rhodora in the woods,
The Poetry Of Milton
© George Meredith
Like to some deep-chested organ whose grand inspiration,
Serenely majestic in utterance, lofty and calm,
Interprets to mortals with melody great as its burthen
The mystical harmonies chiming for ever throughout the bright
spheres.
The Mother
© Nettie Palmer
IN the sorrow and the terror of the nations,
In a world shaken through by lamentations,
The Wind Of Onset
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
WITH potent north winds rushing swiftly down,
Blended in glorious chant, on yester-night
Old Winter came with locks and beard of white.
The hoarfrost glittering on his ancient crown:
