Poems begining by T
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To A Castillan Song
© Sara Teasdale
We held the book together timidly,
Whose antique music in an alien tongue
Once rose among the dew-drenched vines that hung
Beneath a high Castilian balcony.
The Earth
© Ralph Waldo Emerson
OUR eyeless bark sails free,
Though with boom and spar
Andes, Alp, or Himmalee
Strikes never moon or star.
To be, or not to be: that is the question
© William Shakespeare
To be, or not to be, that is the question:
To a Highland Girl (At Inversneyde, upon Loch Lomond)
© William Wordsworth
. Sweet Highland Girl, a very shower
Of beauty is thy earthly dower!
The Stealing Of The Mare - III
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Said the Narrator:
And when Abu Zeyd had sat him down beneath the tree, hehold him in a great anguish and trepidation and sorrow. And to him presently waiting thus there came a form approaching through the darkness, and he was astonished, and he said to himself, ``What can this thing be? Climb rather, thou, O Abu Zeyd, into this tree, so that thou be hidden and learn that which shall come about.'' And he climbed into the tree's branches like unto a raging leopard and watched narrowly the coming of the man, who stopped beneath the tree. And the comer was Sahel ibn Aäf; and Sahel waited looking ever to the right and to the left, and so till a third of the night was over. But at the last there came to him a lady, an exceedingly fair woman, and her name was Zohwa, the daughter of Nasser the Agheyli. And these two had between them an understanding of love, and he had promised that he would come that night to the tree, and she that she would meet him there. And he had waited long for her coming, until his heart was on the boil with his love and with the fire kindled within him. And he, even when she was come to him, believed hardly that he saw her with his eyes. And he went out to meet her and he asked her the reason of her delay. And she answered, ``I waited for the eyes to sleep and until my father and my mother should be in their dreams, and as soon as they slept I came to thee. And now do with me all that thou wilt, for I am here before thee, nor am I miserly of my regard.'' And on hearing this he forgave her, and he kissed her face, and she kissed his face, and they sat down and began to discourse together, Abu Zeyd the while crouching above and listening to their words. And he had a mind, for shame's sake, to slay them both; but he said to himself, ``Let us first see how it shall happen.'' And they fell to talking of the gossip of the Arabs, and presently they spoke of Alia. And Sahel became troubled and he said to Zohwa, ``O that I could behold her! O that thou couldst bring her hither!'' And she asked of him, ``Why so? Is she then more beautiful than I? Are her eyes more fairly painted?'' And he said, ``Not so. But listen. I have had with her an adventure. It happened to me thus, that I was abroad in the desert and that I came to a certain fountain of sweet water, even that fountain in the which if one shall wash his garments he shall remain ever in health. And, as I approached it, behold the daughters of the princes of Agheyl seated on the banks of the stream, and their hair was loosened from the plaits, and I saw that their hair was dark as the descending night and that their eyes were painted with kohl. And looking thus and perceiving their beauty I became as one bewildered, nor could I turn away my eyes but remained staring and gazing, until at the last one of them was aware of me and called to the others, ``Cover your faces, O girls, for there is a man hard by and I have seen him.'' And Alia turned and saw me. And her anger was lit and she unloosed her tongue against me. And the others besought her that she should tell all to her father; and so turning they left me in great fear and apprehension of the trouble that might come of it. And I threw myself upon my face in the desert and I resolved that I would not return to the tents, for I mistrusted that Alia would give news of it to her father, and that he would seek my life and give me to taste of the cup of evil things. And so truly spake she of it to her father and told him all as it had happened. And he went out against me and came to my tent, and finding me not he slew my father in my place, and afterwards made it known that whosoever should find and kill Sahel the same should receive of him a reward, even all that he should ask for. And now, O Zohwa, I have but this one desire, to avenge the blood of my father by her destruction and to soothe my soul with slaying her, and after that I care not what may come, not though they hew me to pieces with their swords. And surely the news of her death at my hand would travel abroad and grieve the heart of Fadel and wound him so that he too should die.''
And when Zohwa heard this story she bade him to be of good comfort, for that she would bring him to his heart's desire. And she said, ``I will fetch thee Alia hither, and in a short space, for this is no far--off matter. Wait only until I return to thee, for see, my soul is not niggardly to thee of its regard.''
And she left him and returned to the tents, and she sought the pavilion of the Princess Alia. And Alia, when she saw Zohwa, rose and went forward to meet her and made her sit beside her and inquired the cause of her coming. And Zohwa said, ``O my lady, I am in a great perplexity, and therefore am I come to thee.'' And she sat down beside her and told her a long tale of trouble and kept her thus talking through the night, and soothed her with soft words, deceiving her and flattering her with fair speeches of praise until she touched her heart with her cunning, nor did she cease from discoursing until a second third of the night was spent and there remained but these two awake of all the camp which was sleeping. Then Zohwa arose as if to go and she asked for leave to depart, but Alia besought her that she should stay with her and sleep there in the tent beside her. And Zohwa said, ``Of a truth that would be before all things pleasant and for an honour to me, but I have been at pains to escape unperceived from my people and to them must I return.'' And Alia hearing, was moved to pity and she said, ``Go then.'' And Zohwa went out of the tent and on a little way, but presently returned trembling as a ship trembles when it is struck by the wind, and she showed manifold signs of terror. And Alia asked her, ``What aileth thee then?'' And she answered, ``O lady, I am overcome with lack of courage. And surely thou are responsible for me; but wilt thou not come with me a little way?'' But Alia said, ``Nay. For if I should go with thee, who afterwards should return with me? And see, the guards are sleeping, and my damsels every one of them. Nor am I too without danger of enemies who might do me a hurt, and, more than the rest, of that dog Sahel ibn Aäf.'' And Zohwa answered quickly, ``Say not so, O lady. And how should Sahel hurt thee, or how should any other, seeing that thou art the daughter of the prince of our tribe, the greatest of the princes, whose fame is in all the valleys? And yet thou speakest thus, thou daughter of the generous? Nay, it is no far journey. Listen: between thy tents and ours are but ten furlongs, for the space hath been stepped by the trackers, and if thou wilt come but one--half the road thou canst then turn back and I will go forward, and the way will have been thus divided between us and each will have accompanied the other and fear shall have been outwitted.'' And Alia stopped at this agreement, for her wit failed her. And she arose and went with Zohwa out of the camp. And Zohwa's tongue wagged as they walked so that the way seemed short, and Alia lost reckoning in the darkness. And thus they came to the headland which stood at their mid--journey. And Alia knew nothing until, coming near the tree, suddenly Sahel leaped forth upon them. And Alia knew that it was he, and she cried aloud in fear. But Sahel seized hold of her by her neck ornaments and swore that if she cried out he would even cut off her head. And he began to use base language, and he said, ``Now will I be avenged of the blood: and by the faith of the Arabs need is that I shall slay thee.'' And she said, ``To thy honour I appeal, O Sahel. So may God requite thee and save thee from the rage of Abu Zeyd the Helali.''
To Miss Sarah Siddons
© Frances Anne Kemble
Time beckons on the hours: the expiring year
Already feels old Winter's icy breath;
The Answer
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Spare me, dread angel of reproof,
And let the sunshine weave to-day
Its gold-threads in the warp and woof
Of life so poor and gray.
The Poet To His Love
© Edith Nesbit
ALL the flight of thoughts here, shy, bold, scared, intrusive,
Fluttering in the sun, between the green and blue,
Wheeling, whirling, poising, lovely and elusive,
How to cage the flying thoughts, my winged delight, for you?
The Arrogant Frog And The Superior Bull
© Guy Wetmore Carryl
Once, on a time and in a place
Conducive to malaria,
There lived a member of the race
Of Rana Temporaria;
Or, more concisely still, a frog
Inhabited a certain bog.
The Country Clergyman's Trip To Cambridge -- An Election Ballad
© Thomas Babbington Macaulay
As I sate down to breakfast in state,
At my living of Tithing-cum-Boring,
The Old-Fashioned Thanksgiving
© Edgar Albert Guest
It may be I am getting old and like too much to dwell
Upon the days of bygone years, the days I loved so well;
The Voice
© Henri de Regnier
I do not wish anyone to be near my sadness
Not even your dear step and your loved face,
Nor your indolent hand which caresses with a finger
The lazy ribbon and the closed book.
The Bush Fire
© William Henry Ogilvie
The Sun has signed his nightly armistice,
Drawn a dark cloud across his crimson breast,
And gone to war with other lands than this,
Lowering his splendid banners from the west.
Down the world's edge the summer lightnings play,
Their broadswords flashing o'er departed day.
The Metaphysical Sectarian
© Samuel Butler
HE was in Logick a great Critick,
Profoundly skill'd in Analytick.
The Woman
© Harriet Monroe
Go sleep, my sweetierestrest!
Oh soft little hand on mother's breast!
Oh soft little lipsthe din's mos' gone-
Over and done, my dearie one!
The Path To Home
© Edgar Albert Guest
THERE'S the mother at the doorway, and the children at the gate,
And the little parlor windows with the curtains white and straight.
There are shaggy asters blooming in the bed that lines the fence,
And the simplest of the blossoms seems of mighty consequence.
Oh, there isn't any mansion underneath God's starry dome
That can rest a weary pilgrim like the little place called home.
The Unborn.
© Robert Crawford
Ah God! for those who are coming,
The millions who yet must be!
Thine Earth like a hive has been humming
So long with anxiety:
