Poems begining by T
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The First Part: Sonnet 11 - Lamp of heaven's crystal hall that brings the hours,
© William Henry Drummond
Lamp of heaven's crystal hall that brings the hours,
Eye-dazzler, who makes the ugly night
The Wage-Slaves
© Rudyard Kipling
Oh, glorious are the guarded heights
Where guardian souls abide--
Self-exiled from our gross delights--
Above, beyond, outside:
The Virginity
© Rudyard Kipling
Try as he will, no man breaks wholly loose
From his first love, no matter who she be.
Oh, was there ever sailor free to choose,
That didn't settle somewhere near the sea?
The Veterans
© Rudyard Kipling
To-day, across our fathers' graves,
The astonished years reveal
The remnant of that desperate host
Which cleansed our East with steel.
The Verdicts
© Rudyard Kipling
Not in the thick of the fight,
Not in the press of the odds,
Do the heroes come to their height,
Or we know the demi-gods.
The Bloody Sun
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
O WHERE have ye been the morn sae late,
My merry son, come tell me hither?
O where have ye been the morn sae late?
And I wot I hae but anither.
By the water-gate, by the water-gate,
O dear mither.
The Vampire
© Rudyard Kipling
A fool there was and he mad his prayer
(Even as you and I!)
To a rag and a bone and a hank of hair
(We called her the woman who did not care),
But the fool he called her his lady fair
(Even as you and I!)
Theater
© Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev
All of us - righteous and sinners,
Born in prison, raised at the altar,
All of us are funny actors
In the theater of the Creator.
The Undertaker's Horse
© Rudyard Kipling
The eldest son bestrides him,
And the pretty daughter rides him,
And I meet him oft o' mornings on the Course;
And there kindles in my bosom
An emotion chill and gruesome
As I canter past the Undertaker's Horse.
The Two-Sided Man
© Rudyard Kipling
Much I owe to the Lands that grew--
More to the Lives that fed--
But most to Allah Who gave me two
Separate sides to my head.
Two Months
© Rudyard Kipling
June
No hope, no change! The clouds have shut us in,
And through the cloud the sullen Sun strikes down
Full on the bosom of the tortured Town,
Two Kopjes
© Rudyard Kipling
Then mock not the African kopje,
And rub not your flank on its side,
The silent and simmering kopje,
The kopje beloved by the guide.
You can never be, etc.
The Blues
© William Matthews
What did I think, a storm clutching a clarinet
and boarding a downtown bus, headed for lessons?
I had pieces to learn by heart, but at twelve
The Trade
© Rudyard Kipling
They bear, in place of classic names,
Letters and numbers on their skin.
They play their grisly blindfold games
In little boxes made of tin.
To Wolcott Balestier
© Rudyard Kipling
Beyond the path of the outmost sun through utter darkness hurled --
Further than ever comet flared or vagrant star-dust swirled --
Live such as fought and sailed and ruled and loved and made our world.
The Hunters
© Daniil Ivanovich Kharms
Six men went hunting, but only four returned.
Two, in fact, hadn't returned.
To the Unknown Goddess
© Rudyard Kipling
Will you conquer my heart with your beauty; my sould going out from afar?
Shall I fall to your hand as a victim of crafty and cautions shikar?Have I met you and passed you already, unknowing, unthinking and blind?
Shall I meet you next session at Simla, O sweetest and best of your kind?Does the P. and O. bear you to meward, or, clad in short frocks in the West,
Are you growing the charms that shall capture and torture the heart in my breast?Will you stay in the Plains till September -- my passion as warm as the day?
To the True Romance
© Rudyard Kipling
Thy face is far from this our war,
Our call and counter-cry,
I shall not find Thee quick and kind,
Nor know Thee till I die,
To Thomas Atkins
© Rudyard Kipling
I have made for you a song
And it may be right or wrong,
But only you can tell me if it's true.
I have tried for to explain
Both your pleasure and your pain,
And, Thomas, here's my best respects to you!
