Poems begining by T
/ page 639 of 916 /t of the Fifth Scene in the Second Act of Athalia
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
[Abner]
Oh! just avenging Heaven! [aside.
To Aramantha, That She Would Dishevel Her Hair
© Richard Lovelace
Amarantha sweet and faire,
Ah brade no more that shining haire!
As my curious hand or eye,
Hovering round thee, let it flye.
There Was a Little Girl
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
There was a little girl,
Who had a little curl,
Right in the middle of her forehead.
When she was good,
She was very good indeed,
But when she was bad she was horrid.
The Angry Man
© Phyllis McGinley
The other day I chanced to meet
An angry man upon the street
A man of wrath, a man of war,
A man who truculently bore
Over his shoulder, like a lance,
A banner labeled Tolerance.
Trouble Brings Friends
© Edgar Albert Guest
It's seldom trouble comes alone. I've noticed this: When things go wrong
An' trouble comes a-visitin', it always brings a friend along;
Sometimes it's one you've known before, and then perhaps it's someone new
Who stretches out a helping hand an' stops to see what he can do.
Tulips
© Sylvia Plath
The tulips are too excitable, it is winter here.
Look how white everything is, how quiet, how snowed-in
The Man To Be
© Edgar Albert Guest
Some day the world will need a man of courage in a time of doubt,
And somewhere, as a little boy, that future hero plays about.
The Innocent Ill
© Abraham Cowley
Though all thy gestures and discourses be
Coin'd and stamp'd by modesty;
To the Memory of Mrs. Lefroy who died Dec:r 16 -- my Birthday.
© Jane Austen
Angelic Woman! past my power to praise
In Language meet, thy Talents, Temper, mind.
Thy solid Worth, they captivating Grace!--
Thou friend and ornament of Humankind!--
This Little Bag
© Jane Austen
This little bag I hope will prove
To be not vainly made--
For, if you should a needle want
It will afford you aid.
The Camp Fires of the Past
© Rex Ingamells
A thousand, thousand camp fires every night,
in ages gone, would twinkle to the dark
The Hasteners
© Nizar Qabbani
For fifty years they starved our children
And at the end of the fast, they threw to us…
An onion..
The Lark
© William Barnes
As I, below the mornèn sky,
Wer out a workèn in the lew
O' black-stemm'd thorns, a-springèn high,
Avore the worold-boundèn blue,
A-reäkèn, under woak tree boughs,
The orts a-left behin' by cows.
The Girl Of Dunbwy
© Thomas Osborne Davis
'Tis pretty to see the girl of Dunbwy
Stepping the mountain statelily--
Though ragged her gown, and naked her feet,
No lady in Ireland to match her is meet.
The Holy Grail
© Alfred Tennyson
`Then leaving the pale nun, I spake of this
To all men; and myself fasted and prayed
Always, and many among us many a week
Fasted and prayed even to the uttermost,
Expectant of the wonder that would be.
The War Sonnets: I. Peace
© Rupert Brooke
Oh! we, who have known shame, we have found release there,
Where there's no ill, no grief, but sleep has mending,
Naught broken save this body, lost but breath;
Nothing to shake the laughing heart's long peace there
But only agony, and that has ending;
And the worst friend and enemy is but Death.
The Angel In The House. Book I. Canto XII.
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
III The Churl
This marks the Churl: when spousals crown
His selfish hope, he finds the grace,
Which sweet love has for even the clown,
Was not in the woman, but the chace.
The Hermit Goes Up Attic
© Maxine Kumin
By 1816, whatever the crop goes sour.
Three tallies cut by the knife are all
in a powder of dead flies and wood dust pale as flour.
Death, if it came then, has since gone dry and small.
The Way I Treated Father [A Bush Song]
© Henry Lawson
I WORKED with father in the bush
At splitting rails and palings.