Poems begining by T
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The Brewing Of Soma
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The fagots blazed, the caldron's smoke
Up through the green wood curled;
"Bring honey from the hollow oak,
Bring milky sap," the brewers spoke,
In the childhood of the world.
To A Star
© Frances Anne Kemble
Thou little star, that in the purple clouds
Hang'st, like a dewdrop, in a violet bed;
The Song And The Sigh
© Henry Lawson
The creek went down with a broken song,
'Neath the sheoaks high;
The waters carried the song along,
And the oaks a sigh.
The Pleasures of Melancholy
© Thomas Warton
Mother of musings, Contemplation sage,
Whose grotto stands upon the topmost rock
Of Teneriffe; 'mid the tempestuous night,
On which, in calmest meditation held,
The End of the Day
© Katharine Tynan
The night darkens fast and the shadows darken,
Clouds and the rain gather about mine house,
Only the wood-dove moans, hearken, O hearken!
The moan of the wood-dove in the rain-wet boughs.
The Sword Of The Tomb : A Northern Legend
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
"Voice of the gifted elder time!
Voice of the charm and the Runic rhyme!
Speak! from the shades and the depths disclose,
How Sigurd may vanquish his mortal foes;
Voice of the buried past!
The Worship of Nature
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The harp at Nature's advent strung
Has never ceased to play;
The song the stars of morning sung
Has never died away.
The Sycamores
© John Greenleaf Whittier
In the outskirts of the village
On the river's winding shores
Stand the Occidental plane-trees,
Stand the ancient sycamores.
The Pumpkin
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Oh, greenly and fair in the lands of the sun,
The vines of the gourd and the rich melon run,
And the rock and the tree and the cottage enfold,
With broad leaves all greenness and blossoms all gold,
The Pipes At Lucknow
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Pipes of the misty moorlands,
Voice of the glens and hills;
The droning of the torrents,
The treble of the rills!
The Norsemen ( From Narrative and Legendary Poems )
© John Greenleaf Whittier
GIFT from the cold and silent Past!
A relic to the present cast,
Left on the ever-changing strand
Of shifting and unstable sand,
The Frost Spirit
© John Greenleaf Whittier
He comes, - he comes, - the Frost Spirit comes!
You may trace his footsteps now
On the naked woods and the blasted fields
And the brown hill's withered brow.
The Farewell
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Of A Virginia Slave Mother To Her Daughters Sold Into Southern BondageGone, gone, -- sold and gone
To the rice-swamp dank and lone.
Where the slave-whip ceaseless swings
Where the noisome insect stings
The Eternal Goodness
© John Greenleaf Whittier
O Friends! with whom my feet have trod
The quiet aisles of prayer,
Glad witness to your zeal for God
And love of man I bear.
The Changeling ( From The Tent on the Beach )
© John Greenleaf Whittier
FOR the fairest maid in Hampton
They needed not to search,
Who saw young Anna favor
Come walking into church,--
The Barefoot Boy
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Blessings on thee, little man,
Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan!
With thy turned-up pantaloons,
And thy merry whistled tunes;
Telling the Bees
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Here is the place; right over the hill
Runs the path I took;
You can see the gap in the old wall still,
And the stepping-stones in the shallow brook.
The Dregs Of Love
© Alfred Austin
Think you that I will drain the dregs of Love,
I who have quaffed the sweetness on its brink?
To Mr. Rowland Woodward
© John Donne
LIKE one who in her third widowhood doth profess
Herself a nun, tied to retiredness,
So affects my Muse, now, a chaste fallowness.
