Poems begining by T
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To W. Hohenzollern, On Discontinuing The Conning Tower
© Franklin Pierce Adams
William, it was, I think, three years ago-
As I recall, one cool October morning-
(You have The Tribune files; I think they'll show
I gave you warning).
Trees In Autumn
© John Jay Chapman
THE poets have made Autumn sorrowful;
I find her joyous, radiant, serene.
The Silver Locks
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Tho' youth may boast the curls that flow,
In sunny waves of auburn glow;
As graceful on thy hoary head,
Has time the robe of honor spread,
And there, oh ! softly, softly shed,
His wreath of snow!
The Current
© Raymond Carver
These fish have no eyes
these silver fish that come to me in dreams,
scattering their roe and milt
in the pockets of my brain.
The Captive Pirate
© Caroline Norton
That the ruin'd fortress towers
Number'd his despairing hours,
And beneath their careless tread,
Sleeps-the broken-hearted dead!
The Penitent Sinner
© Thomas Parnell
Ah that my eyes were fountaines & could poar
Eternall streams from inexhausted stores
To The Rainbow
© Thomas Campbell
Triumphal arch, that fill'st the sky
When storms prepare to part,
I ask not proud Philosophy
To teach me what thou art; -
The Milkmaid's Song
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
Turn, turn, for my cheeks they burn,
Turn by the dale, my Harry!
The Silver Horn
© Henry Clay Work
"Come, rest with me now, my silver horn!
My melodious joy, my silver horn!
To Saxham
© Thomas Carew
Though frost and snow lock'd from mine eyes
That beauty which without door lies,
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part IV: Vita Nova: CIX
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
ROUMELI HISSAR
The Empire of the East, grown dull to fear
By long companionship with angry fate,
In silent anguish saw her doom appear
"The love I look for"
© Lesbia Harford
The love I look for
Could not come from you.
My mind is set to fall
At Peterloo.
The Battle Eve Of The Irish Brigade
© Thomas Osborne Davis
THE mess-tent is full, and the glasses are set,
And the gallant Count Thomond is president yet;
The Land Where I Was Born
© John Shaw Neilson
HAVE you ever been down to my countree
Where the trees are green and tall?
The Parrot and the Billy-Goat
© Henry Clay Work
There were no romping children at Doctor Quibble's door;
Long past the silver wedding, no toys lay on the floor,
But to relieve her longings, to soothe her vain regrets,
His good wife had contrived to raise a family of pets.
The Vision At Twilight
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
WITHOUT the squares of misted pane,
I saw the wan autumnal rain,
And heard, o'er tufts of churchyard grass,
The wind's low miserere pass.
The Doll Upon The Topmost Bough
© Vachel Lindsay
This doll upon the topmost bough,
This playmate-gift, in Christmas dress,
Was taken down and brought to me
One sleety night most comfortless.
