Poems begining by T
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The Touch Of Tears
© Aline Murray Kilmer
MICHAEL walks in autumn leaves
Rustling leaves and fading grasses,
The Siege Of Kazan. (Tartar Song, From The Prose Version Of Chodzko)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Black are the moors before Kazan,
And their stagnant waters smell of blood:
I said in my heart, with horse and man,
I will swim across this shallow flood.
The Walking Man
© Henry Herbert Knibbs
Sunny summer day it was when loping in to Laramie,
I overtook the Walking Man, reined up and nodded "How!!"
The Image Of God (From The Spanish Of Francisco De Aldana)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
O Lord! who seest, from yon starry height
Centred in one the future and the past
The Cummerbund: An Indian Poem
© Edward Lear
Beware, ye Fair! Ye Fair, beware!
Nor sit out late at night,--
Lest horrid Cummerbunds should come,
And swallow you outright.
The Maid O Newton
© William Barnes
In zummer, when the knaps wer bright
In cool-aïr'd evenèn's western light,
The Boy Robert
© Richard Monckton Milnes
The stripling Robert, good and brave,
Holds in his hand a bare--drawn glaive,
And on the altar of the Lord,
He lays it with this earnest word:
To One Threatened With Blindness
© George MacDonald
I.
Lawrence, what though the world be growing dark,
The Heather Branch
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Out of the pale night air,
From wandering lone in the warm scented wood,
The sighing, shadowy, bright solitude
Of leafy glade, and the rough upland bare,
Then And Now
© Madison Julius Cawein
When my old heart was young, my dear,
The Earth and Heaven were so near
The Winter's Come
© John Clare
Sweet chestnuts brown like soling leather turn;
The larch trees, like the colour of the Sun;
The Prayer
© Rudyard Kipling
My brother kneels, so saith Kabir,
To stone and brass in heathen wise,
But in my brother's voice I hear
My own unanswered agonies.
His God is as his fates assign,
His prayer is all the world's-and mine.
The Fishers Boy
© Henry David Thoreau
MY life is like a stroll upon the beach,
As near the oceans edge as I can go;
My tardy steps its waves sometimes oerreach,
Sometimes I stay to let them overflow.
The Rose
© Henry Lawson
We love the land when the world goes round,
And deep, deep down in her thorny ground,
Where nobody comes, and nobody knows,
We love the Rose. Oh! we love the Rose.
To Anne: Oh, Say Not, Sweet Anne
© George Gordon Byron
Oh, say not, sweet Anne, that the Fates have decreed
The heart which adores you should wish to dissever;
Such Fates were to me most unkind ones indeed,
To bear me from love and from beauty for ever.
