Poems begining by T
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The Falling Of Thrones
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Above the din of commerce, above the clamor and rattle
Of labor disputing with riches, of Anarchists' threats and groans,
Above the hurry and hustle and roar of that bloodless battle,
Where men are fighting for riches. I hear the falling of thrones.
The Borough. Letter XVI: Inhabitants Of The Alms-House. Benlow
© George Crabbe
SEE! yonder badgeman with that glowing face,
A meteor shining in this sober place!
The Cap And Bells; Or, The Jealousies: A Faery Tale -- Unfinished
© John Keats
I.
In midmost Ind, beside Hydaspes cool,
The Fisherman's Feast
© Eugene Field
Of all the gracious gifts of Spring,
Is there another can safely surpass
The Puritans' Christmas
© Madison Julius Cawein
Their only thought religion,
What Christmas joys had they,
The stern, staunch Pilgrim Fathers who
Knew naught of holiday?--
The Unfinished Book
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
TAKE it, reader, idly passing,
This, like other idle lines;
Take it, critic, great at classing
Subtle genius and its signs:
The Future Verdict
© Ada Cambridge
How will our unborn children scoff at us
In the good years to come,
The happier years to come,
Because, like driven sheep, we yielded thus,
Before the shearers dumb.
The Auncient Acquaintance, Madam, Betwen Vs Twayn
© John Skelton
The auncient acquaintance, madam, betwen vs twayn,
The famylyaryte, the formal dalyaunce,
The Borrowed Axe
© John Newton
The prophets sons, in time of old,
Though to appearance poor;
Were rich without possessing gold,
And honoured, though obscure.
The Horologe Of The Fields
© Charlotte Turner Smith
Addressed to a Young Lady, on seeing at the House of an
Acquaintance a magnificent French Timepiece.
The Ballad of Minepit Shaw
© Rudyard Kipling
About the time that taverns shut
And men can buy no beer,
Two lads went up to the keepers' hut
To steal Lord Pelham's deer.
The Bag
© George Herbert
Away despair; my gracious Lord doth heare,
Though windes and waves assault my keel,
He doth preserve it: he doth steer,
Ev'n when the boat seems most to reel.
Storms are the triumph of his art:
Well may he close his eyes, but not his heart.
The Nuns And The Lilies
© Lesbia Harford
The lilies in the garden walk
Are out today.
The nuns all came to look at them,
To look and say
The Resting-Place
© Ada Cambridge
Calmly the Paschal moonlight now is sleeping
On mossy hillock and on headstone grey,
Where still our Mother holds in faithful keeping
Such as, while living, in her dear arms lay.
Ah! loving and beloved, we know ye rest,
E'en in the grave, upon her hallow'd breast.
The Grandiloquent Goat
© Carolyn Wells
A very grandiloquent Goat
Sat down to a gay table d'hote;
He ate all the corks,
The knives and the forks,
Remarking: "On these things I dote."
The Practical Joker
© William Schwenck Gilbert
Oh what a fund of joy jocund lies hid in harmless hoaxes!
What keen enjoyment springs
