Poems begining by T
/ page 77 of 916 /"The hot winds wake to life in the sweet daytime"
© Lesbia Harford
The hot winds wake to life in the sweet daytime
My weary limbs,
And tear through all the moonlit darkness shouting
Tremendous hymns.
"Tradin' Joe"
© James Whitcomb Riley
I've swapped a power in stock, and so
The neighbers calls me "Tradin' Joe"--
And I'm goin' to tell you 'bout a trade,--
And one o' the best I ever made:
The Lucayan's Song
© Amelia Opie
Hail, lonely shore! hail, desert cave!
To you, o'erjoyed, from men I fly,
And here I'll make my early grave….
For what can misery do but die?
The Shepherd And His Dog Rover
© Robert Bloomfield
ROVER, awake! the grey Cock crows!
Come, shake your coat and go with me!
The Cycle
© Robinson Jeffers
The clapping blackness of the wings of pointed cormorants,
the great indolent planes
The Siege Of Corinth
© George Gordon Byron
XXVII.
Still the old man stood erect,
And Alp's career a moment check'd.
"Yield thee, Minotti; quarter take,
For thine own, thy daughter's sake."
The English Graves
© Robert Laurence Binyon
The rains of yesterday are flown,
And light is on the farthest hills;
The homeliest rough grass by the stone
To radiance thrills;
The Doer Of Good
© Oscar Wilde
And when He came near He heard within the city the tread of the
feet of joy, and the laughter of the mouth of gladness and the loud
noise of many lutes. And He knocked at the gate and certain of the
gate-keepers opened to Him.
The Faun
© Madison Julius Cawein
The joys that touched thee once, be mine!
The sympathies of sky and sea,
The friendships of each rock and pine,
That made thy lonely life, ah me!
In Tempe or in Gargaphie.
The Rose
© Jones Very
The rose thou show'st me has lost all its hue,
For thou dost seem to me than it less fair;
The House of Peers
© William Schwenck Gilbert
When Britain really ruled the waves -
(In good Queen Bess's time)
To The Soldiers Of Pius Ninth
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Warriors true, tis no false glory
For which now you peril life,
The Australian Sunrise
© James Lister Cuthbertson
The Morning Star paled slowly, the Cross hung low to the sea,
And down the shadowy reaches the tide came swirling free,
The Avenging Spirit
© Arthur Symons
So you have drugged me with this poisoned wine
Because I never loved you; trees writhe grim
The Lotus-Flower
© Roderic Quinn
All the heights of the high shores gleam
Red and gold at the sunset hour:
There comes the spell of a magic dream,
And the Harbour seems a lotus-flower;
The Meeting
© Harriet Monroe
The ox-team and the automobile
Stood face to face on the long red road,
The long red road was narrow
At the turn of the hill,
And below was the sun-dancing river
Afoam over the rocks.
The Olde, Olde, very Olde Man; or The Age and Long Life of Thomas Parr
© John Taylor
Good wholesome labour was his exercise,
Down with the lamb, and with the lark would rise:
In mire and toiling sweat he spent the day,
And to his team he whistled time away: