Poems begining by T
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The Shepherd and the Philosopher
© John Gay
A deep philosopher (whose rules
Of moral life were drawn from schools)
The shepherd's homely cottage sought,
And thus explor'd his reach of thought.
The Book
© Henry Vaughan
Eternal God! Maker of all
That have lived here since the man's fall:
The Rock of Ages! in whose shade
They live unseen, when here they fade;
To The Sponsors For Daniel Carman McArthur,
© Peter McArthur
Baptized January ad, 1898.
YE hardy folk who boldly stand
The Antagonists
© Robert Laurence Binyon
``I am the will of the Fire
That bursts into boundless fury;
I am my own implacable desire.
The Seekers Of Lice
© Arthur Rimbaud
When the child's forehead, full of red torments,
Implores the white swarm of indistinct dreams,
The Western Stars
© Henry Lawson
On my blankets I was lyin
Too tired to lift my head,
An the long hot day was dyin
An I wished that I was dead.
The Sovereign Poet
© William Watson
HE sits above the clang and dust of Time,
With the world's secret trembling on his lip.
He asks not converse or companionship
In the cold starlight where thou canst not climb.
To A Departed Spirit
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
From the bright stars, or from the viewless air,
Or from some world unreached by human thought,
Spirit, sweet spirit! if thy home be there,
And if thy visions with the past be fraught,
Answer me, answer me!
The Shower (I)
© Henry Vaughan
'TWAS so ; I saw thy birth. That drowsy lake
From her faint bosom breath'd thee, the disease
Of her sick waters and infectious ease.
But now at even,
Too gross for heaven,
Thou fall'st in tears, and weep'st for thy mistake.
The Freehold on the Plain
© Anonymous
I'm a broken-down old squatter, my cash it is all gone,
Of troubles and bad seasons I complain;
My cattle are all mortgaged, of horses I have none,
And I've lost that little freehold on the plain.
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part II: To Juliet: XXXIII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
REMINDING HER OF A PROMISE
Oh, Juliet, we have quarrelled with our fate,
And fate has struck us. Wherefore do we cry?
We prayed for liberty, and now too late
The Rough Little Rascal
© Edgar Albert Guest
A smudge on his nose and a smear on his cheek
And knees that might not have been washed in a week;
A bump on his forehead, a scar on his lip,
A relic of many a tumble and trip:
A rough little, tough little rascal, but sweet,
Is he that each evening I'm eager to meet.
The Old Cumberland Beggar
© William Wordsworth
. I saw an aged Beggar in my walk;
And he was seated, by the highway side,
The Long Room
© Madison Julius Cawein
HE found the long room as it was of old,
Glimmering with sunset's gold;
That made the tapestries seem full of eyes
Strange with a wild surmise:
The Locust
© Madison Julius Cawein
Thou pulse of hotness, who, with reedlike breast,
Makest meridian music, long and loud,
The Angel-Thief
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
TIME is a thief who leaves his tools behind him;
He comes by night, he vanishes at dawn;
We track his footsteps, but we never find him
Strong locks are broken, massive bolts are drawn,
The Herald Crane
© Hamlin Garland
Oh! say you so, bold sailor
In the sun-lit deeps of sky!
Dost thou so soon the seed-time tell
In thy imperial cry,
As circling in yon shoreless sea
Thine unseen form goes drifting by?
The Child-Dancers
© Percy MacKaye
A bomb has fallen over Notre Dame:
Germans have burned another Belgian town:
