Poems begining by T
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The Snowman in the Yard
© Joyce Kilmer
(For Thomas Augustine Daly)The Judge's house has a splendid porch, with pillars
and steps of stone,
And the Judge has a lovely flowering hedge that came from across
the seas;
The Bonnie Earl Moray
© Andrew Lang
Ye Highlands, and ye Lawlands
Oh where have you been?
They have slain the Earl of Murray,
And they layd him on the green.
The Moon's Minion
© Andrew Lang
Thine eyes are like the sea, my dear,
The wand'ring waters, green and grey;
The Quiet Rural Church
© Victor Marie Hugo
It was a humble church, with arches low,
The church we entered there,
Where many a weary soul since long ago
Had past with plaint or prayer.
The Butterfly
© Ann Taylor
THE Butterfly, an idle thing,
Nor honey makes, nor yet can sing,
As do the bee and bird;
Nor does it, like the prudent ant,
Lay up the grain for times of want,
A wise and cautious hoard.
The Little Park Planted
© Yehuda Amichai
And every night the memory in the garden
hums like a little motor.
During the day you can't hear it.
The Day Of Judgment
© Edith Nesbit
When the bearing and doing are over,
And no more is to do or bear,
The Call of The Impossible
© Sri Aurobindo
Our godhead calls us in unrealised things.
Asleep in the wide fields of destiny,
A world guarded by Silence' rustling wings
Sheltered their fine impossibility.
Try To Remember Some Details
© Yehuda Amichai
Try to remember some details. Remember the clothing
of the one you love
so that on the day of loss you'll be able to say: last seen
wearing such-and-such, brown jacket, white hat.
Temporary Poem Of My Time
© Yehuda Amichai
Please do not throw any more stones,
You are moving the land,
The holy, whole, open land,
You are moving it to the sea
And the sea doesn't want it
The sea says, not in me.
The First Rain
© Yehuda Amichai
The white panic of soft flesh
In the panic of a sudden vision
Of ancient saints.
Tourists
© Yehuda Amichai
Visits of condolence is all we get from them.
They squat at the Holocaust Memorial,
They put on grave faces at the Wailing Wall
And they laugh behind heavy curtains
Three Souls
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Then clothed like Angels, fitting their estate,
Three Souls went singing, singing through God's Gate.
The Bush Girl
© Henry Lawson
Grey eyes that grow sadder than sunset or rain,
Fond heart that is ever more true
Firm faith that grows firmer for watching in vain--
Shell wait by the slliprails for you.
To The Painter Of An Ill-drawn Picture of Cleone
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
Sooner I'd praise a Cloud which Light beguiles,
Than thy rash Hand which robs this Face of Smiles;
And does that sweet and pleasing Air control,
Which to us paints the fair CLEONE's Soul.
To Ronge
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Strike home, strong-hearted man! Down to the root
Of old oppression sink the Saxon steel.
To The Nightingale
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
Exert thy Voice, sweet Harbinger of Spring!
This Moment is thy Time to sing,
This Moment I attend to Praise,
And set my Numbers to thy Layes.
Free as thine shall be my Song;
As thy Musick, short, or long.
The Beggar to Mab, The Queen Fairy
© Robert Herrick
Please your Grace, from out your store
Give an alms to one that's poor,
