Poems begining by T
/ page 61 of 916 /Trade Circular
© Kenneth Slessor
(To the Poets' Ladies)
SHALL I give you the Bourbon-sugars
Of sherry and yellow sky
And a girl in a country curricle
The Fate of the Explorers (A Fragment)
© Henry Kendall
Through that night he uttered little, rambling were the words he spoke:
And he turned and died in silence, when the tardy morning broke.
Many memories come together whilst in sight of death we dwell,
Much of sweet and sad reflection through the weary mind must well.
As those long hours glided past him, till the east with light was fraught,
Who may know the mournful secret who can tell us what he thought?
To Shakespeare (III)
© Frances Anne Kemble
Shelter and succour such as common men
Afford the weaker partners of their fate,
The 5th Satire Of Book I. Of Horace : A Humorous Description Of The Author's Journey From Rome To Br
© William Cowper
'Twas a long journey lay before us,
When I and honest Heliodorus,
The Ruin And Its Flowers
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Breathe, fragrance! breathe, enrich the air,
Tho' wasted on its wing unknown!
Blow, flow'rets! blow, tho' vainly fair,
Neglected and alone!
The Captains
© Henry Lawson
The Captains sailed in rotten ships, with often rotten crews,
Because their lands were ignorant and meaner than the ooze;
With money furnished them by Greed, or by ambition mean,
When they had crawled to some pig-faced, pig-hearted king or queen.
The Morning Song of the Jungle
© Rudyard Kipling
One moment past our bodies cast
No shadow on the plain;
The Old Sexton
© William Henry Drummond
I know very well t'was purty hard case
If dere 's not on de worl' some beeger place
Dan village of Cote St. Paul,
But we got mebbe sixty-five house or more
Wit' de blacksmit' shop an' two fine store
Not to speak of de church an' de city hall.
The Song of Arda: (From Annatanam.)
© Henry Kendall
LOW as a lute, my love, beneath the call
Of storm, I hear a melancholy wind;
To A Greek Girl
© Henry Austin Dobson
WITH breath of thyme and bees that hum,
Across the years you seem to come,
The Dance To Death. Act V
© Emma Lazarus
LIEBHAID.
The air hangs sultry as in mid-July.
Look forth, Claire; moves not some big thundercloud
Athwart the sky? My heart is sick.
The Toy-Maker
© Padraic Colum
I AM the Toy-maker; I have brought from the town
As much in my plack as should fetch a whole crown,
I'll array for you now my stock of renown
And man's the raree will show you.
The Carillon
© John Le Gay Brereton
Alone
I sit in the dusk and see
Surely the living faces, dear to me,
Of comrades who have thrown
All that they had, the fruit of all desire,
Upon an altar fire.
The House Of Dust: Part 01: 03:
© Conrad Aiken
One, where the pale sea foamed at the yellow sand,
With wave upon slowly shattering wave,
Turned to the city of towers as evening fell;
And slowly walked by the darkening road toward it;
And saw how the towers darkened against the sky;
And across the distance heard the toll of a bell.
The Reward
© James Weldon Johnson
No greater earthly boon than this I crave,
That those who some day gather 'round my grave,
In place of tears, may whisper of me then,
"He sang a song that reached the hearts of men."
Trinitas
© John Greenleaf Whittier
At morn I prayed, "I fain would see
How Three are One, and One is Three;
Read the dark riddle unto me."
The Scene Behind The Carriage Window Panes
© Paul Verlaine
The scene behind the carriage window-panes
Goes flitting past in furious flight; whole plains
With streams and harvest-fields and trees and blue
Are swallowed by the whirlpool, whereinto
The telegraph's slim pillars topple o'er,
Whose wires look strangely like a music-score.