Poems begining by T
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The Average Man
© George Essex Evans
His hat looks worn, and his coat-sleeves shine,
As I see him step from his bus at nine;
The Symphony
© Alfred Noyes
Wonder in happy eyes
Fades, fades away:
And the angel-coloured skies
Whisper farewell.
Transformation
© Henry Van Dyke
Only a little shrivelled seed,
It might be flower, or grass, or weed;
The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 9
© Publius Vergilius Maro
WHILE these affairs in distant places passd,
The various Iris Juno sends with haste,
The Seasons
© James Weldon Johnson
W'en de leaves begin to fall,
An' de fros' is on de ground,
An' de 'simmons is a-ripenin' on de tree;
W'en I heah de dinner call,
An' de chillen gadder 'round,
'Tis den de 'possum is de meat fu' me.
The Confidant
© Charles Lamb
Anna was always full of thought
As if she'd many sorrows known,
Yet mostly her full heart was fraught
With troubles that were not her own;
For the whole school to Anna used to tell
Whatever small misfortunes unto them befell.
To Mrs. Newans
© Mary Barber
You say 'tis hard to copy well,
Where Nature does herself excel.
Allow'd -- yet still let me advise:
Near as you can, to Nature rise;
The Grey Wolf
© Arthur Symons
The grey wolf comes again: I had made fast
The door with chains; how has the grey wolf passed
The First Six Verses Of The Ninetieth Psalm Versified
© Robert Burns
O Thou, the first, the greatest friend
Of all the human race!
Whose strong right hand has ever been
Their stay and dwelling place!
The Humstrum
© William Barnes
Why woonce, at Chris'mas-tide, avore
The wold year wer a-reckon'd out,
The Little Book
© John Newton
When the beloved disciple took
The angels' little open book,
Which by the Lord's command he eat,
It tasted bitter after sweet.
The Birth Of Flattery
© George Crabbe
Muse of my Spenser, who so well could sing
The passions all, their bearings and their ties;
The Horse Of Your Heart
© William Henry Ogilvie
When you've ridden a four-year-old half of the day
And, foam to the fetlock, they lead him away,
They Shall Not Win
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Whatever the strength of our foes is now,
Whatever it may have been,
This is our slogan, and this our vow-
They shall not win, they shall not win.
The Wind Of Winter
© Madison Julius Cawein
The Winter Wind, the wind of death,
Who knocked upon my door,
Now through the keyhole entereth,
Invisible and hoar:
He breathes around his icy breath
And treads the flickering floor.
The Stream
© Charles Heavysege
'Twas Sabbath morn. I lay 'neath pensive spell,
And saw, in reverie or waking dream,
The River Path
© John Greenleaf Whittier
No bird-song floated down the hill,
The tangled bank below was still;
The Musical Chamber
© George Moses Horton
I TRUST that my friends will remember,
Whilst I these my pleasures display,
Resort to my musical chamber,
The laurel crown'd desert in May.
To The Australian Eleven
© Douglas Brooke Wheelton Sladen
You have bearded the lion in his den,
You have singed the original cricket
Upon his own hearth, and beaten his men
On a genuine English wicket;
And so the Australian kangaroo
Has a right good right to be proud of you.
