Poems begining by T
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Tho' Lack of Laurels
© Trumbull Stickney
Tho' lack of laurels and of wreaths not one
Prove you our lives abortive, shall we yet
The Broken Men
© Rudyard Kipling
For things we never mention,
For Art misunderstood --
For excellent intention
That did not turn to good;
The Lady of the Lake: Canto IV. - The Prophecy
© Sir Walter Scott
Ellen.
'Well, be it as thou wilt;
I hear, But cannot stop the bursting tear.'
The Minstrel tried his simple art,
Rut distant far was Ellen's heart.
To Miss --,
© Samuel Johnson
{On her playing upon the harpsichord in
a room hung with flower-pieces of her own painting}.
The Betrothed
© Rudyard Kipling
Open the old cigar-box, get me a Cuba stout,
For things are running crossways, and Maggie and I are out.
The Benefactors
© Rudyard Kipling
Ah! What avails the classic bent
And what the cultured word,
Against the undoctored incident
That actually occurred?
The Bell Buoy
© Rudyard Kipling
1896
They christened my brother of old--
And a saintly name he bears--
They gave him his place to hold
The Industry And Reverence Of A Prince's Wife
© Confucius
Around the pools, the islets o'er,
Fast she plucks white Southern-wood,
To help the sacrificial store;
And for our prince does service good.
The Bees and the Flies
© Rudyard Kipling
The egregious rustic put to death
A bull by stopping of its breath,
Disposed the carcass in a shed
With fragrant herbs and branches spread,
And, having well performed the charm,
Sat down to wait the promised swarm.
The Ballad of the Red Earl
© Rudyard Kipling
(It is not for them to criticize too minutely
the methods the Irish followed, though they might deplore some of
their results. During the past few years Ireland had been going
through what was tantamount to a revolution. -- EARL SPENCER)
The Rowers
© Rudyard Kipling
The banked oars fell an hundred strong,
And backed and threshed and ground,
But bitter was the rowers' song
As they brought the war-boat round.
The Ballad of the King's Mercy
© Rudyard Kipling
Abdhur Rahman, the Durani Chief, of him is the story told.
His mercy fills the Khyber hills -- his grace is manifold;
He has taken toll of the North and the South -- his glory reacheth far,
And they tell the tale of his charity from Balkh to Kandahar.
The Axe And The Pine
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
ALL day, on bole and limb the axes ring,
And every stroke upon my startled brain
Falls with the power of sympathetic pain;
I shrink to view each glorious forest-king
The Ballad of the King's Jest
© Rudyard Kipling
When spring-time flushes the desert grass,
Our kafilas wind through the Khyber Pass.
Lean are the camels but fat the frails,
Light are the purses but heavy the bales,
The Ballad of Fisher's Boarding-House
© Rudyard Kipling
'T was Fultah Fisher's boarding-house,
Where sailor-men reside,
And there were men of all the ports
From Mississip to Clyde,
And regally they spat and smoked,
And fearsomely they lied.
The Ballad of East and West
© Rudyard Kipling
Oh, East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet,
Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God's great Judgment Seat;
But there is neither East nor West, Border, nor Breed, nor Birth,
When two strong men stand face to face, tho' they come from the ends of the earth!
The Ballad of the "Bolivar"
© Rudyard Kipling
Seven men from all the world, back to Docks again,
Rolling down the Ratcliffe Road drunk and raising Cain:
Give the girls another drink 'fore we sign away --
We that took the Bolivar out across the Bay!
Teaken In Apples
© William Barnes
We took the apples in last week,
An' got, by night, zome eächèn backs
The Answer
© Rudyard Kipling
A Rose, in tatters on the garden path,
Cried out to God and murmured 'gainst His Wrath,
Because a sudden wind at twilight's hush
Had snapped her stem alone of all the bush.
