Poems begining by T
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The Gypsy
© Edward Thomas
A fortnight before Christmas Gypsies were everywhere:
Vans were drawn up on wastes, women trailed to the fair.
The Sheperd Bwoy
© William Barnes
When the warm zummer breeze do blow over the hill,
An' the vlock's a-spread over the ground;
The Return of the Year
© Archibald Lampman
Again the warm bare earth, the noon
That hangs upon her healing scars,
The midnight round, the great red moon,
The mother with her brood of stars,
The Ringlet
© Caroline Norton
Change!--thou wert all life's scenery:
To me, the billowy, bounding wave--
The wide green earth--the far blue sky,
Form but the landscape of thy grave!
The Woodcutter's Hut
© Archibald Lampman
Far up in the wild and wintery hills in the heart of the cliff-broken
woods,
Two Hundred Years Ago
© William Henry Drummond
But He watch dem, le bon Dieu, for He's got
some work to do,
An He won't trus' ev'ry body, no siree!
Only full blood Canadien, lak Marquette an'
Hennepin,
An' w'at you t'ink of Louis Verandrye?
The Burden Of Strength
© George Meredith
If that thou hast the gift of strength, then know
Thy part is to uplift the trodden low;
Else in a giant's grasp until the end
A hopeless wrestler shall thy soul contend.
To Eva
© Joseph Rodman Drake
A BEAM upon the myrtle fell
From dewy evening's purest sky,
'Twas like the glance I love so well,
Dear Eva, from thy moonlight eye.
The Lord of the Isles: Canto IV.
© Sir Walter Scott
I.
Stranger! if e'er thine ardent step hath traced
The Things
© Conrad Aiken
The house in Broad Street, red brick, with nine rooms
the weedgrown graveyard with its rows of tombs
the jail from which imprisoned faces grinned
at stiff palmettos flashing in the wind
The Three Fates
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Up in the cave of the wind
Bent with their difficult years
In mocking laughter they sit,
Old Distaff, Spindle, and Shears.
The Water Lady
© Thomas Hood
Alas, the moon should ever beam
To show what man should never see!
I saw a maiden on a stream,
And fair was she!
Through Sleepy-Land
© James Whitcomb Riley
Where do you go when you go to sleep,
Little Boy! Little Boy! where?
'Way--'way in where's Little Bo-Peep,
And Little Boy Blue, and the Cows and Sheep
A-wandering 'way in there;--in there--
A-wandering 'way in there!
To The Don
© Alexander Pushkin
Through the Steppes, see there he glances!
Silent flood glad hailed by me,--
Thy far distant sons do proffer
Through me, greeting fond to thee!
The Old Swimmer
© Christopher Morley
I OFTEN wander on the beach
Where once, so brown of limb,
The biting air, the roaring surf
Summoned me to swim.
The Boy And The Brook. (Armenian Popular Song, From The Prose Version Of Alishan)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Down from yon distant mountain height
The brooklet flows through the village street;
A boy comes forth to wash his hands,
Washing, yes washing, there he stands,
In the water cool and sweet.
The Arrival Of The Bee Box
© Sylvia Plath
I ordered this, clean wood box
Square as a chair and almost too heavy to lift.
I would say it was the coffin of a midget
Or a square baby
Were there not such a din in it.
There Was A Boy
© William Wordsworth
There was a Boy; ye knew him well, ye cliffs
And islands of Winander! many a time,
