Poems begining by T
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The Real Question
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
Folks is talkin' 'bout de money, 'bout de silvah an' de gold;
All de time de season 's changin' an' de days is gittin' cold.
An' dey 's wond'rin' 'bout de metals, whethah we'll have one er two.
While de price o' coal is risin' an' dey 's two months' rent dat 's due.
This Man Jones
© James Whitcomb Riley
This man Jones was what you'd call
A feller 'at had no sand at all;
The Earth A Cheerless Look Still Wears
© Fyodor Ivanovich Tyutchev
O soul, my soul, you slumbered too…
What is it that, your sleep disturbing,
Fills you with warmth and tender yearning
And gilds your tarnished dreams anew?
The Golden Hoofprints
© William Henry Ogilvie
I WALKED one day on a road in Devon
A road that rose till it touched the blue,
Where high in the curtained halls of Heaven
The God of all beauty reigned, I knew.
The Crosse
© George Herbert
What is this strange and uncouth thing
To make me sigh, and seek, and faint, and die,
Untill I had some place, where I might sing,
And serve thee; and not onely I,
But all my wealth, and familie might combine
To set thy honour up, as our designe.
The Night Of Trafalgar
© Thomas Hardy
In the wild October night-time, when the wind raved round the
land,
The Incarnation, And Passion
© Henry Vaughan
LORD, when Thou didst Thyself undress,
Laying by Thy robes of glory,
To make us more, Thou wouldst be less,
And becam'st a woful story.
The Library
© George Crabbe
When the sad soul, by care and grief oppress'd,
Looks round the world, but looks in vain for rest;
The Testament of John Lydgate - Excerpt
© John Lydgate
Beholde, o man! lyft up thyn eye and see
What mortall peyne I suffre for thi trespace.
The Ogre Slam-The-Door
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
There is a certain castle that is beautiful and fair,
And plants, and birds, and pretty things, fill every room and hall,
But alas! for the unhappy folks who make their dwelling there,
A dreadful ogre haunts the house and tries to kill them all.
Some day I fear will find them dead and stretched out in their gore
The victims of this ogre grim, this wicked Slam-the-door!
The People's Fleet
© Alfred Noyes
OUT of her darkened fishing-ports they go,
A fleet of little ships, whose every name -
Daffodil, Sea-lark, Rose and Surf and Snow,
Bums in this blackness like an altar-flame;
The Huxter
© Edward Thomas
He has a hump like an ape on his back;
He has of money a plentiful lack;
And but for a gay coat of double his girth
There is not a plainer thing on the earth
This fine May morning.
The Haunted Garden
© Henry Treece
In this sad place
Memory hangs on the air
Fragile as Spring snail's tiny shell,
Coming to the sympathetic ear
Gentle as bud's green pulsing in the sun,
Suave as sin in a black velvet glove;
The Bushman
© Thomas Pringle
The Bushman sleeps within his black-browed den,
In the lone wilderness. Around him lie
The Everlasting Return
© Lola Ridge
Ten times we had watched the moon
Rise like a thin white virgin out of the waters
And round into a full maternity…
For thrice ten moons we had touched no flesh
Save the man flesh on either hand
That was black and bitter and salt and scaled by the sea.
The Resurrection
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
The day of wintry wrath is o'er,
The whirlwind and the storm have pass'd,
The whiten'd ashes of the snow
Enwrap the ruined world no more;
Nor keenly from the orient blow
The venom'd hissings of the blast.
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part II: To Juliet: XXXI
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
TO ONE WHO LOVED HIM
I cannot love you, love, as you love me,
In singleness of soul, and faith untried:
I have no faith in any destiny,
