Poems begining by T
/ page 418 of 916 /
To Kate. (In Lieu Of A Valentine)
© Ellis Parker Butler
Sweet Love and I had oft communed;
We were, indeed, great friends,
And oft I sought his office, near
Where Courtship Alley ends.
To Ireland
© Alfred Austin
``What ails you, Sister Erin, that your face
Is, like your mountains, still bedewed with tears?
To Jessica, Gone Back To The City
© Ellis Parker Butler
But, with fun aside, you know,
Were blamed sorry she must go;
An we hope shell think, maybe,
Z well o us ez we o she.
The Wood Nymph
© Ellis Parker Butler
A glint of her hair or a flash of her shoulder
That is the most I can boast to have seen,
Then all is lost as the shadows enfold her,
Forest glades making a screen of their green,
The Water Nymphs
© Ellis Parker Butler
They hide in the brook when I seek to draw nearer,
Laughing amain when I feign to depart;
Often I hear them, now faint and now clearer
Innocent bold or so sweetly discreet.
The Twenty Hoss-Power Shay
© Ellis Parker Butler
Wonderful vehicle, youll admit,
With not one flaw in the whole of it;
As long as I had it, I declare
I hadnt one cent to pay for repair,
It couldnt break down because, you see,
It was such a logical symphony.
The Tearful Tale Of Captain Dan
© Ellis Parker Butler
A sinner was old Captain Dan;
His wives guv him no rest:
He had one wife to East Skiddaw
And one to Skiddaw West.
The Romance Of Patrolman Casey
© Ellis Parker Butler
There was a young patrolman who
Had large but tender feet;
They always hurt him badly when
He walked upon his beat.
(He always took them with him when
He walked upon his beat.)
The Rich Boys Christmas
© Ellis Parker Butler
And now behold this sulking boy,
His costly presents bring no joy;
Harsh tears of anger fill his eye
Tho he has all that wealth can buy.
The Poor Boys Christmas
© Ellis Parker Butler
Observe, my child, this pretty scene,
And note the air of pleasure keen
With which the widows orphan boy
Toots his tin horn, his only toy.
The Golf Walk
© Ellis Parker Butler
Behold, my child, this touching scene,
The golfer on the golfing-green;
Pray mark his legs uncanny swing,
The golf-walk is a gruesome thing!
The Final Tax
© Ellis Parker Butler
Said Statesman A to Statesman Z:
What can we tax that is not paying?
Were taxing every blessed thing
Heres what our people are defraying:
To A Lady With Child That Ask'd An Old Shirt.
© Richard Lovelace
And why an honour'd ragged shirt, that shows,
Like tatter'd ensigns, all its bodie's blows?
Should it be swathed in a vest so dire,
It were enough to set the child on fire;
The Vanity Of Human Wishes
© Michael Wigglesworth
I walk'd and did a little Mole-hill view
Full peopled with a most industrious crew
The Charge of the Second Iowa Cavalry
© Ellis Parker Butler
Comrades, many a year and day
Have fled since that glorious 9th of May
When we made the charge at Farmington.
But until our days on earth are done
The Tempters
© Edgar Albert Guest
EVERY gentle breeze that's blowing is a tempter very knowing,
For it penetrates my armor in its weakest, thinnest spot;
The Ballade Of The Mistletoe Bough
© Ellis Parker Butler
These customs of Christmas may shock the wise,
And mistletoe boughs may be out of style,
And a kiss be a thing that all maids despise
But look at those lips, do! They hint a smile!
The Ballade Of The Automobile
© Ellis Parker Butler
When yacht or Coach Club fellows dine
We may carol the praises of ruby wine;
But when Automobile Clubmen convene
Then ho! For a gallon of gasoline!
