Poems begining by T
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The Last Eve Of Summer
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Summer's last sun nigh unto setting shines
Through yon columnar pines,
And on the deepening shadows of the lawn
Its golden lines are drawn.
Terre, Terre,Cherie
© André Marie de Chénier
...Terre, terre chérie
Que la liberté sainte appelle sa patrie;
The Star
© Edith Nesbit
I said, "Now my brows are laurelled, my hands filled full of their gold,
I will sing the starry songs that these earthworms bade withhold.
It is time to sing of my star!" for I dreamed that my star still shone,
Then I lifted my eyes in my triumph. Night! night! and my star was gone.
To The Proof Room
© Bert Leston Taylor
"O MEN of dark and dismal fate,"
A prey to typographic terrors,
O you who labor long and late,
Correcting other people's errors --
Think not I do not realize
How much I owe your Argus-eyes.
The Church of Unbent Knees
© Christopher Morley
AS I went by the church to-day
I heard the organ cry;
And goodly folk were on their knees,
But I went striding by.
To R. K.
© James Kenneth Stephen
As long I dwell on some stupendous
And tremendous (Heaven defend us!)
Monstr'-inform'-ingens-horrendous
Demoniaco-seraphic
The Two Sides Of The River
© William Morris
O Winter, O white winter, wert thou gone
No more within the wilds were I alone
Leaping with bent bow over stock and stone!
The Span Of Life
© Robert Frost
The old dog barks backwards without getting up.
I can remember when he was a pup.
The New World
© Jones Very
THE NIGHT that has no star lit up by God,
The day that round men shines who still are blind,
The Pilgrim
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
Vain folly of another age,
This wandering over earth,
To find the peace by some dark sin
Banish'd our household hearth.
The Bullfrog Bell
© Joseph Furphy
Now the truce of night brings respite to the sordid care of day,
And in listlessness I pace the river side,
Where the solitude is wounded by no lighted window's ray;
But illicit fancy will not be denied
For the darkening flat reiterates a freer life's farewell,
In the long familiar knocking of a bullfrog bell.
To Mrs. Dulaney
© Frances Anne Kemble
What was thine errand here?
Thy beauty was more exquisite than aught
The Can-Can At Valentinos
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
THE first, a mare; the second, 'twixt bowwow
And pussycat, a cross; the third, a beast
To Harriet -- It Is Not Blasphemy To Hope That Heaven
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
It is not blasphemy to hope that Heaven
More perfectly will give those nameless joys
Which throb within the pulses of the blood
And sweeten all that bitterness which Earth
To the Mother of a Dead Marine
© Marilyn L. Taylor
Your boy once touched me, yes. I knew you knew
when your wet, reddened gaze drilled into me,
groped through my clothes for signs, some residue
of himsome lusciousness of mine that he
The Broken Heart
© William Barnes
News o' grief had overteaken
Dark-eyed Fanny, now vorseaken;
There she zot, wi' breast a-heaven,
While vrom zide to zide, wi' grieven,
The Ring And The Book - Chapter VIII - Dominus Hyacinthus de Archangelis
© Robert Browning
(Virgil, now, should not be too difficult
To Cinoncino,say the early books . . .
Pen, truce to further gambols! Poscimur!)
The Geniuses Among Us
© Marilyn L. Taylor
They take us by surprise, these tall perennials
that jut like hollyhocks above the canopy
of all the rest of usbright testimonials
to the scale of human possibility.
The Blue Water Buffalo
© Marilyn L. Taylor
One in 250 Cambodians, or 40,000 people,
have lost a limb to a landmine.
Newsfront, U.N. Development Programme Communications Office
