Poems begining by T
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The Princes' Quest - Part the Third
© William Watson
"O Sleep, thou hollow sea, thou soundless sea,
Dull-breaking on the shores of haunted lands,
Lo, I am thine: do what thou wilt with me.
The Woman Speaks
© Madison Julius Cawein
Why have you come? to see me in my shame?
A thing to spit on, to despise and scorn?--
The Farmer's Ingle (english version)
© Robert Fergusson
Whan gloming grey out o'er the welkin keeks,
Whan Batie ca's his owsen to the byre,
The Joys Of The Road
© Bliss William Carman
NOW the joys of the road are chiefly these:
A crimson touch on the hard-wood trees;
A vagrant's morning wide and blue,
In early fall, when the wind walks too;
The Execution Of Montrose
© William Edmondstoune Aytoun
COME hither, Evan Cameron!
Come, stand beside my knee:
The Child Impaled
© John Le Gay Brereton
Beside the path, on either hand,
To keep the garden beds,
The rusted iron pickets stand
Thin shafts and pointed heads.
The Dead Tribune
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
The awful shadow of a great man's death
Falls on this land, so sad and dark before-
The Fate Of An Innocent Dog
© George Moses Horton
When Tiger left his native yard,
He did not many ills regard,
A fleet and harmless cur;
Indeed, he was a trusty dog,
To The Fair
© Anonymous
This morning I sat by a maid,
And clasped her hand whiter than snow,
And I thought that an angel had strayed
From her home to make heaven below!
The Voice And Pen
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
Oh! the orator's voice is a mighty power,
As it echoes from shore to shore,
And the fearless pen has more sway o'er men
Than the murderous cannon's roar!
The Clearer Self
© Archibald Lampman
Before me grew the human soul,
And after I am dead and gone,
Through grades of effort and control
The marvellous work shall still go on.
The Poet To Be Yet.
© Arthur Henry Adams
NOT he who sings smooth songs that soothe
Sweet opiates that lull asleep
The sorrow that would only weep;
There are some spirit-stains so deep
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 1. Prelude; The Wayside Inn
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
One Autumn night, in Sudbury town,
Across the meadows bare and brown,
The windows of the wayside inn
Gleamed red with fire-light through the leaves
Of woodbine, hanging from the eaves
Their crimson curtains rent and thin.
The Kings Prophecie
© Joseph Hall
What Stoick could his steely brest containe
(If Zeno self, or who were made beside
Of tougher mold) from being torne in twaine
With the crosse Passions of this wondrous tide?
Grief at ELIZAES toomb, orecomne anone
With greater ioy at her succeeded throne?
To Christian Gottfried Ehrenberg
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
FOR HIS "JUBILAEUM" AT BERLIN, NOVEMBER 5, 1868
THOU who hast taught the teachers of mankind
The Bard of Furthest Out
© Henry Lawson
HE LONGED to be a Back-Blocks Bard,
And fame he wished to win
The Watchers
© Edmund Blunden
I heard the challenge "Who goes there?"
Close kept but mine through midnight air
The Golden Legend: IV. The Road To Hirschau
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
_Elsie._ Onward and onward the highway runs
to the distant city, impatiently bearing
Tidings of human joy and disaster, of love and of
hate, of doing and daring!
Toujours Ce Souvenir MAttendrit
© André Marie de Chénier
Toujours ce souvenir m'attendrit et me touche,
Quand lui-même, appliquant la flûte sur ma bouche,
