Poems begining by T
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The Prayer
© Arthur Symons
Dear, if I might love better for your sake,
I would not care though you should love me less;
I love you more than to consent to take
Happiness and not give you happiness.
Theres Only The Two Of Us Here
© Edward Harrington
I camped one night in an empty hut on the side of a lonely hill.
I didnt go much on empty huts, but the night was awful chill.
So I boiled me billy and had me tea and seen that the door was shut.
Then I went to bed in an empty bunk by the side of the old slab hut.
Taking Title
© Christopher Morley
TO make this little house my very own
Could not be done by law alone.
Though covenant and deed convey
Absolute fee, as lawyers say,
There are domestic rites beside
By which this house is sanctified.
The Happiest Man In England
© William Henry Ogilvie
The happiest man in England rose an hour before the dawn;
The stars were in the purple and the dew was on the lawn;
To Ianthe
© Walter Savage Landor
YOU smild, you spoke, and I believd,
By every word and smile deceivd.
Another man would hope no more;
The Departure. AN ELEGY.
© Henry King
VVere I to leave no more then a good friend,
Or but to hear the summons to my end,
(Which I have long'd for) I could then with ease
Attire my grief in words, and so appease
The Old-Fashioned Pair
© Edgar Albert Guest
'Tis a little old house with a squeak in the stairs,
And a porch that seems made for just two easy chairs;
The Cloak Model
© John Crowe Ransom
"My son," the stranger thus began,
And drew me to the window side,
"Now here are beauties better than
You ever have dreamed, or ever can.
But yet beware!" he cried.
The Staff and Scrip
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Who rules these lands? the Pilgrim said.
Stranger, Queen Blanchelys.
The Surprise
© William Barnes
As there I left the road in May,
And took my way along a ground,
I found a glade with girls at play,
By leafy boughs close-hemmed around,
The Hall And The Wood
© William Morris
Twas in the water-dwindling tide
When July days were done,
Sir Rafe of Greenhowes, gan to ride
In the earliest of the sun.
The Three Black Crows
© John Byrom
Two honest tradesmen meeting in the Strand,
One took the other briskly by the hand;
The Prodigy.
© Mary Barber
Then they throng to my House, and my Maid they beseech,
To say, if her Mistress had quite lost her Speech.
Nell readily own'd, what they heard was too true;
That To--day I was dumb, give the Devil his Due:
And frankly confess'd, were it always the Case,
No Servant could e'er have a happier Place.
The Laughter of Women by Mary-Sherman Willis: American Life in Poetry #168 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Lau
© Ted Kooser
So often, reading a poem can in itself feel like a thing overheard. Here, Mary-Sherman Willis of Virginia describes the feeling of being stilled by conversation, in this case barely audible and nearly indecipherable.
The Laughter of Women
From over the wall I could hear the laughter of women
in a foreign tongue, in the sun-rinsed air of the city.
They sat (so I thought) perfumed in their hats and their silks,
The Monk Saigyo
© Saigyo
Should I blame the moon
For bringing forth this sadness,
As if it pictured grief?
Lifting up my troubled face,
I regard it through my tears
The Veairy Veet That I Do Meet
© William Barnes
When dewy fall's red leaves do vlee
Along the grass below the tree,
The Eumerella Shore
© Anonymous
There's a happy little valley on the Eumerella shore,
Where I've lingered many happy hours away,
On my little free selection I have acres by the score,
Where I unyoke the bullocks from the dray.
The Lord Is King
© George Wither
The Lord is King, and weareth
A robe of glory bright:
He clothed with strength appeareth,
And girt with powerful might.
The First Love Dream
© Henry Clay Work
Last night, mother, he told me so,
As we walked by the pebbly stream;
