Poems begining by T
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The Force of Argument
© William Schwenck Gilbert
Lord B. was a nobleman bold
Who came of illustrious stocks,
He was thirty or forty years old,
And several feet in his socks.
The Little Dancers
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Lonely, save for a few faint stars, the sky
Dreams; and lonely, below, the little street
Into its gloom retires, secluded and shy.
Scarcely the dumb roar enters this soft retreat;
The Fire Bells Are Ringing
© Henry Clay Work
One, two, three-hark, hark, boys!
One, two, three, four!
The Princes' Qust - Part the Fourth
© William Watson
So spake the Spirit unto him that dreamed,
And suddenly that world of shadow seemed
More shadowy; and all things began to blend
Together: and the dream was at an end.
The Open Door
© Alfred Noyes
O Mystery of life,
That, after all our strife,
Defeats, mistakes,
Just as, at last, we see
The road to victory,
The tired heart breaks.
The Fifteen Acres
© James Brunton Stephens
I cling and swing
On a branch, or sing
Through the cool, clear hush of Morning, O:
Or fling my wing
The Mother's Lesson
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
Come hither an' sit on my knee, Willie,
Come hither an' sit on my knee,
To a Lady Singing a Song of His Composing
© Edmund Waller
Chloris! yourself you so excel,
When you vouchsafe to breathe my thought,
That, like a spirit, with this spell
Of my own teaching, I am taught.
They won't frown alwayssome sweet Day
© Emily Dickinson
They won't frown alwayssome sweet Day
When I forget to tease
They'll recollect how cold I looked
And how I just said "Please."
The Spirit Of Discovery By Sea - Book The Second
© William Lisle Bowles
Oh for a view, as from that cloudless height
Where the great Patriarch gazed upon the world,
The Comfort Of Obscurity
© Franklin Pierce Adams
Though earnest and industrious,
I still am unillustrious;
No papers empty purses
Printing verses
Such as mine.
The Song of Quoodle
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
They haven't got no noses,
The fallen sons of Eve;
Even the smell of roses
Is not what they supposes;
But more than mind discloses
And more than men believe.
Three Studies From A Portrait
© Margaret Widdemer
1
OLD TALES
HER voice within the darkened room
Tells on old jests and tragedies
And little follies of her kin
And futile old nobilities:
The Departure of Summer
© Thomas Hood
Summer is gone on swallows' wings,
And Earth has buried all her flowers:
No more the lark,the linnetsings,
But Silence sits in faded bowers.
The Song The Oriole Sings
© William Dean Howells
There is a bird that comes and sings
In a professor's garden-trees;
Upon the English oak he swings,
And tilts and tosses in the breeze.
The Three Friends
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
The sword slew one in deadly strife;
One perish'd by the bowl;
The third lies self-slain by the knife;
For three the bells may toll -
I loved her better than my life,
And better than my soul.
To A Gentleman, Who Had Abus'd Waller.
© Mary Barber
I grieve to think that Waller's blam'd,
Waller, so long, so justly, fam'd.
Then own your Verses writ in Haste,
Or I shall say, you've lost your Taste.
The Fields Of Flanders
© Edith Nesbit
Last year the fields were all glad and gay
With silver daisies and silver may;
There were kingcups gold by the river's edge
And primrose stars under every hedge.
The Elder-Witch
© George Borrow
Though tall the oak, and firm its stem,
Though far abroad its boughs are spread,
The Penitent
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
Thou see'st yon woman with the grave pelisse
Lined with dark sables? Is she not devout?
Her soul is in the service, and her eyes
Are dim with weeping,--weeping for the follies
