Poems begining by T

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The Example

© William Henry Davies

Here's an example from
A Butterfly;
That on a rough, hard rock
Happy can lie;
Friendless and all alone
On this unsweetened stone.

The Dark Hour

© William Henry Davies

And now, when merry winds do blow,
And rain makes trees look fresh,
An overpowering staleness holds
This mortal flesh.

The Child and the Mariner

© William Henry Davies

A dear old couple my grandparents were,
And kind to all dumb things; they saw in Heaven
The lamb that Jesus petted when a child;
Their faith was never draped by Doubt: to them

The Boy

© William Henry Davies

Go, little boy,
Fill thee with joy;
For Time gives thee
Unlicensed hours,
To run in fields,
And roll in flowers.

The Dying Husband's Farewell

© Phineas Fletcher

I LEAVE them, now the trumpet calls away;

In vain thine eyes beg for some times reprieving;

The Bird of Paradise

© William Henry Davies

Here comes Kate Summers, who, for gold,
Takes any man to bed:
"You knew my friend, Nell Barnes," she said;
"You knew Nell Barnes -- she's dead.

The Best Friend

© William Henry Davies

Now shall I walk
Or shall I ride?
"Ride", Pleasure said;
"Walk", Joy replied.

The Devil And The Governor

© William Forster

A Dramatic Sketch.

SceneAn Office. Governor discovered seated at a writing-table.

The Train Misser

© James Whitcomb Riley

Prosecuted-- and that's jes what--!
How'd I know which train's fer me?
And how'd I know which train was not--?
Goern and comin' and gone astray,
And backin' and switchin' ever'-which-way!

Then, when the sudden tears had ceased to blind
Your pansied eyes, I wonder if you could
Remember rightly, and forget aright?
Remember just your lad, uncouthly good,
Forgetting what he failed in spleen or spite?
Could you remember him as always kind?

The Noble Moringer

© Sir Walter Scott

I.
O, will you hear a knightly tale of old Bohemian day,
It was the noble Moringer in wedlock bed he lay;
He halsed and kiss'd his dearest dame, that was as sweet as May,
And said, "Now, lady of my heart, attend the words I say.

To Dora

© William Wordsworth

"'A little onward lend thy guiding hand
To these dark steps, a little further on!'"
--What trick of memory to 'my' voice hath brought
This mournful iteration? For though Time,

The Seven Old Men

© Charles Baudelaire

À Victor Hugo
Ant-like city, city full of dreams,
where the passer-by, at dawn, meets the spectre!
Mysteries everywhere are the sap that streams

The End Of Summer

© Madison Julius Cawein

Pods the poppies, and slim spires of pods

The hollyhocks; the balsam's pearly bredes

There's Nothing Like A Ship At Sea

© Harry Kemp

There's nothing like a ship at sea with all her sails full-spread
And the ocean thundering backward 'neath her mounting figurehead
And the bowsprit plunging starward and the nosing deep again.
"There's nothing like a ship at sea," sing ho, ye sailormen.

The Song of Callicles

THROUGH the black, rushing smoke-bursts,
Thick breaks the red flame.
All Etna heaves fiercely
Her forest-clothed frame.

The Vigil Of Venus

Let those love now, who never lov'd before,

Let those who always lov'd, now love the more.

The Dead Democrat

Her yoke is heavy to be borne,
Her bitter paths are choked with thorn,
But glorious shines, through mist and haze,
The splendour of her coming days.
Our loftiest tribute shall be then,
He served his fellow-men.