Poems begining by T
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Two Old Kings
© Carolyn Wells
Oh! the King of Kanoodledum
And the King of Kanoodledee,
They went to sea
In a jigamaree--
A full-rigged jigamaree.
The Landlord
© James Russell Lowell
What boot your houses and your lands?
In spite of close-drawn deed and fence,
Like water, twixt your cheated hands,
They slip into the graveyard's sands,
And mock your ownership's pretence.
The Christ Of The Andes
© Edwin Markham
After volcanoes husht with snows,
Up where the wide-winged condor goes,
Great Aconcagua, husht and high,
Sends down the ancient peace of the sky.
The Princess: Ask me no more
© Alfred Tennyson
Ask me no more: the moon may draw the sea;
The cloud may stoop from heaven and take the shape,
With fold to fold, of mountain or of cape;
But O too fond, when have I answer'd thee?
Ask me no more.
The Wind
© Sara Teasdale
A wind is blowing over my soul,
I hear it cry the whole night thro' -
Is there no peace for me on earth
Except with you?
The Search Party
© William Matthews
Reader, by now you must be sure
you know just where we are,
deep in symbolic woods.
Irony, self-accusation,
someone else’s suffering.
The search is that of art.
The Clan of MacCaura
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
Oh! bright are the names of the chieftains and sages,
That shine like the stars through the darkness of ages,
The Tour
© Sylvia Plath
O maiden aunt, you have come to call.
Do step into the hall!
With your bold
Gecko, the little flick!
All cogs, weird sparkle and every cog solid gold.
And I in slippers and housedress with no lipstick!
Talbingo
© Kenneth Slessor
Now it’s a sort of aching valley,
Basalt shaggy with scales,
A funnel of tobacco-coloured clay,
Smoulders of puffed earth
And pebbles and shell-bodied flies
And water thickening to stone in pocks.
The Past Was Goodly Once
© William Ernest Henley
The Past was goodly once, and yet, when all is said,
The best of it we know is that it's done and dead.
Two Pictures
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
SHE stood beneath the vine-leaves flushed and fair;
The dimpling smiles around her tender mouth,
Seemed born of mellow sunshine of the South;
A light breeze trembled in her unbound hair;
The Rope-Maker
© Emile Verhaeren
Of old--as one in sleep, life, errant, strayed
Its wondrous morns and fabled evenings through;
When God's right hand toward far Canaan's blue
Traced golden paths, deep in the twilight shade.
The Twelve
© Allen Tate
There by some wrinkled stones round a leafless tree
With beards askew, their eyes dull and wild
The Loehrs And The Hammonds
© James Whitcomb Riley
"Hey, Bud! O Bud!" rang out a gleeful call,--
"_The Loehrs is come to your house!_" And a small
Tampico
© Grace Hazard Conkling
Oh, cut me reeds to blow upon,
Or gather me a star,
But leave the sultry passion-flowers
Growing where they are.
The Cure For Weariness
© Edgar Albert Guest
Seemed like I couldn't stand it any more,
The factory whistles blowin' day by day,
The Safecracker
© Linda Pastan
On nights when the moon seems impenetrable—
a locked porthole to space;
