Poems begining by T
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The Old House
© Madison Julius Cawein
Quaint and forgotten, by an unused road,
An old house stands: around its doors the dense
Blue iron-weeds grow high;
The chipmunks make a highway of its fence;
And on its sunken flagstones slug and toad
Silent as lichens lie.
The Grave Of The Countess Potocki
© Adam Mickiewicz
In spring's own country, where the gardens blow,
You faded, tender rose! For hours now past,
The Tasmanian Aborigine's Lament
© Anonymous
Fair island of my birth, thy distant rocks
Call forth the tenderest feelings of my heart;
Although the sight of thee my yearning mocks,
For cruel waves thee from my children part.
Ah! White man, why---Oh! Why thy childhood's home
Did'st thou abandon, to drive us from ours?
The Stealing Of The Mare - VIII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Said the Narrator:
And when the Emir Abu Zeyd desired to depart, then said to him the Emir Jaber, ``Was it for the mare then that thou camest to our country, or for what else?'' And Abu Zeyd related to him the whole story of the ancient dame and of all that had happened. And the Emir Fadel cried to the grooms, ``Lead forth the mare, the Hamameh.'' And they led her forth and brought her to the Emir Abu Zeyd. And he departed with her after that he had bidden them farewell. And he went back to those shepherds, and took from them his riding camel, and ceased not until he had returned unto his own Arabs. And when they saw him they saluted him, and came around him and rejoiced exceedingly, and they made feastings, and the tribe rejoiced. And Abu Zeyd related to them all that had happened to him, and they wondered greatly and all the tribe with them. Then sent he to the ancient dame Ghanimeh and begged of her that she might come, and when she came he delivered to her the mare and the gifts and bade her depart to her own people. But she said to him, ``Nay, but send with me one who shall charge himself with my affairs.'' And he sent with her Abul Komsan. And Abul Komsan went with Ghanimeh. And they had not journeyed seven days when they met with the tribe of En Naaman. And Abul Komsan went unto Naaman and said to him: ``Saith my lord Abu Zeyd to thee, let Amer espouse thy daughter, for behold, the mare thou didst require of him my lord hath obtained her for thee.'' But when Naaman heard that, he said, ``Take the mare and return to thy Lord and say he will not listen to thy words, neither will he follow thy counsel.'' But he said to him, ``If thou wilt not do this thing then will I slay thee in the midst of thy Arabs, and destroy thee utterly.'' But when Naaman heard this he leaped upon his mare and rushed upon Abul Komsan. But Abul Komsan struck him with his spear upon his breast and pierced him through, so that the spear shone beyond him. And he called out to all the men of the tribe, and defied them, saying, ``I am your peer, and better than your peer.'' But they said to him, ``Nay, but thou hast done us a service, for this one refused to do according to our counsels.'' So Abul Komsan bade them bury him. And they buried him. Then he bade them to bring Amer before him, and Abul Komsan made rejoicings for him and placed him upon the seat of authority in the room of his uncle Naaman. And they brought to him also Betina, the daughter of Naaman, and he ordered their marriage. And when he had done all these things he desired to leave them. But they brought him gifts and they led forth for him the mare, and he took her and his leave of them and departed, and returned to his master and told him all the story. And Abu Zeyd rejoiced and gave thanks.
And the Narrator once more began his singing and he said:
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part II: To Juliet: XXVI
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
THE SAME--A CHRISTMAS SONNET
Since thou hast given me these, Juliet, given me these,
There have been tidings told of a great joy,
Of peace on Earth, good--will without annoy.
The Return Of The Soldier
© Franklin Pierce Adams
Lady when I left you
Ere I sailed the sea,
Bitterly bereft you
Told me you would be.
Tatiana's Letter
© Alexander Pushkin
Allotted unto you was I
E'en from the moment of my birth
And loyal to my future fate;
And God, I know, sent you to be
My champion and my advocate
Till the grave closes over me. . . .
The Evil Face
© Arthur Symons
The terrible enigma of a tormented face.
All nerves and nervous beauty interrupted
The Habitants Jubilee Ode
© William Henry Drummond
Of course w'en we t'ink it de firs' go off, I know very strange it seem
For fader of us dey was offen die for flag of L'Ancien Regime,
From day w'en de voyageurs come out all de way from ole St. Malo,
Flyin' dat flag from de mas' above, an' long affer dat also.
The Coming Era
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
THEY tell us that the Muse is soon to fly hence,
Leaving the bowers of song that once were dear,
Her robes bequeathing to her sister, Science,
The groves of Pindus for the axe to clear.
Tiber, Nile, And Thames
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
THE head and hands of murdered Cicero,
Above his seat high in the Forum hung,
The Disgrace Of Poverty
© Edgar Albert Guest
The lady what comes up to our house t' wash
Is awfully poor, an' she's got
The Gift
© Bliss William Carman
I SAID to Life, "How comes it,
With all this wealth in store,
Of beauty, joy, and knowledge,
Thy cry is still for more?
Trivia ; or, the Art of Walking the Streets of London : Book II.
© John Gay
Of Walking the Streets by Day.
Thus far the Muse has trac'd in useful lays
The Love Of God The End Of Life
© William Cowper
Since life in sorrow must be spent,
So be it--I am well content,
And meekly wait my last remove,
Seeking only growth in love.
To Pius IX
© Frances Anne Kemble
It may be that the stone which thou art heaving
From off thy people's neck shall fall and crush thee;
The Burden of Time
© Frederick George Scott
Before the seas and mountains were brought forth,
I reigned. I hung the universe in space,
I capped earth's poles with ice to South and North,
And set the moving tides their bounds and place.
The Last Reader
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
I sometimes sit beneath a tree
And read my own sweet songs;
Though naught they may to others be,
Each humble line prolongs
A tone that might have passed away
But for that scarce remembered lay.
