Poems begining by T
/ page 540 of 916 /
Touches
© Madison Julius Cawein
In heavens of rivered blue, that sunset dyes
With glaucous flame, deep in the west the Day
The Wild Duck
© John Masefield
A cry of the long pain
In the reeds of a steel lagoon,
In a land that no man knows.
The Brook That Ran By Gramfers
© William Barnes
When snow-white clouds wer thin an' vew
Avore the zummer sky o' blue,
The Captive
© John Blight
This toil-free moment moves me to dissent
there are no hours of freedom, since the mind
The Test
© Katharine Tynan
Love has moods: and I am cold,
Very cold ofttimes to Thee;
Fain to slip from Thy dear hold
To my follies and be free.
The Fountain
© William Wordsworth
We talked with open heart, and tongue
Affectionate and true,
A pair of friends, though I was young,
And Matthew seventy-two.
The Frightened Ploughman
© John Clare
I went in the fields with the leisure I got,
The stranger might smile but I heeded him not,
The hovel was ready to screen from a shower,
And the book in my pocket was read in an hour.
The Unknown Country
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
WHERE is the unknown country?"
I whispered sad and slow,--
"The strange and awful country
To which I soon must go, must go,
To which I soon must go?"
To Nature
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
It may indeed be fantasy when I
Essay to draw from all created things
Deep, heartfelt, inward joy that closely clings;
And trace in leaves and flowers that round me lie
Two Songs Of Advent
© Yvor Winters
Coyote, on delicate mocking feet,
Hovers down the canyon, among the mountains,
His voice running wild in the wind's valleys.
To the Reverend George Coleridge, of Ottery St. Mary, Devon
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
A blessed lot hath he, who having past
His youth and early manhood in the stir
And turmoil of the world, retreats at length,
With cares that move, not agitate the heart,
The Snail
© Richard Lovelace
Wise emblem of our politic world,
Sage snail, within thine own self curl'd;
Instruct me softly to make haste,
Whilst these my feet go slowly fast.
The Intelligent Hen
© Carolyn Wells
'Twas long ago,--a year or so,--
In a barnyard by the sea,
That an old hen lived whom you may know
By the name of Fiddle-de-dee.
She scratched around in the sand all day,
For a lively old hen was she.
The Sparrow's Nest
© William Wordsworth
BEHOLD, within the leafy shade,
Those bright blue eggs together laid!
The World-Soul
© Ralph Waldo Emerson
Still, still the secret presses,
The nearing clouds draw down,
The crimson morning flames into
The fopperies of the town.
Within, without, the idle earth
Stars weave eternal rings,
