Temptation
Thanksgiving Poem, A
Then and Now
Theology
Thou Art My Lute
Till The Wind Gets Right
Time To Tinker 'Roun'!
To a Captious Critic
To A Dead Friend
To A Lady Playing The Harp
To A Violet Found on All Saint's
To An Ingrate
To Dan
To Dr. James Newton Matthews
To E. H. K.
To Her
To J. Q.
To Louise
To Miss Mary Britton
To Pfrimmer
To The Eastern Shore
To the Memory of Mary Young
To the Miami
To The Road
To the South
Trouble In De Kitchen
Tryst, The
Turning Of The Babies In The Bed, The
Twell De Night Is Pas'
Twilight
Two Little Boots
Two Songs
It is as if a silver chord
Were suddenly grown mute,
And life's song with its rhythm warred
Against a silver lute.
It is as if a silence fell
Where bides the garnered sheaf,
And voices murmuring,"It is well,"
Are stifled by our grief.
It is as if the gloom of night
Had hid a summer's day,
And willows, sighing at their plight,
Bent low beside the way.
For he was part of all the best
That Nature loves and gives,
And ever more on Memory's breast
He lies and laughs and lives.
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Last updated: Wed, Feb-29-2012