The Lady Poverty was fair (A. Meynell) . . . . . . . . . . . 131
The moon is up: the stars are bright (A. Noyes) . . . . . . 14
There is a hill beside the silver Thames (R. Bridges) . . . 70
There's a breathless hush in the Close to-night (H. Newbolt) 115
These hearts were woven of human joys and cares (R. Brooke) 24
This is a sacred city built of marvellous earth
(J. Masefield) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 123
This labouring, vast, Tellurian galleon (F. Thompson) . . . 149
This was her table, these her trim outspread
(J. B. B. Nichols) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9
Through the sunny garden (M. E. Coleridge) . . . . . . . . . 37
Time, you old gipsy man (R. Hodgson) . . . . . . . . . . . . 7
'Tis but a week since down the glen (G. Gould) . . . . . . . 124
To-day, all day, I rode upon the down (W. Blunt) . . . . . . 79
To the forgotten dead (M. L. Woods) . . . . . . . . . . . . 12
To the heart of youth the world is a highwayside
(R. L. Stevenson) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 113
Too soothe and mild your lowland airs (L. Abercrombie) . . . 36
Troy Town is covered up with weeds (J. Masefield) . . . . . 3
Trusty, dusky, vivid, true (R. L. Stevenson) . . . . . . . . 157
Twilight it is, and the far woods are dim, and the rooks
cry and call (J. Masefield) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 138
Under the wide and starry sky (R. L. Stevenson) . . . . . . 90
Very old are the woods (W. de la Mare) . . . . . . . . . . . 1
What gods have met in battle to arouse (A. E.) . . . . . . . 27
What heart could have thought you? (F. Thompson) . . . . . . 127
What is this life, if, full of care (W. B. Davies) . . . . . 101
What of vile dust? the preacher said (G. K. Chesterton) . . 154
What shall I your true-love tell (F. Thompson) . . . . . . . 168
When I am living in the Midlands (H. Belloc) . . . . . . . . 43
When I did wake this morn from sleep (W. H. Davies) . . . . 67
When June is come, then all the day (R. Bridges) . . . . . . 152
When men were all asleep the snow came flying (R. Bridges) 91
When skies are blue and days are bright (K. Tynan) . . . . . 69
When you are old and gray and full of sleep (W. B. Yeats) 161
When we fought campaigns (in the long Christmas rains)
(R. Macaulay) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23
Where the thistle lifts a purple crown (F. Thompson) . . . . 143
With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children
(L. Binyon) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26
Ye have robbed, said he, ye have slaughtered and made an
end (H. Newbolt) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17
Yonder in the heather there's a bed for sleeping (A. Smith) 35
Youth now flees on feathered foot (R. L. Stevenson) . . . . 107