Poems begining by T

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The Computation

© John Donne

For the first twenty years since yesterday

 I scarce believed thou couldst be gone away;

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The Toad

© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

Then also was it that that child with the stone,
He who now tells this story, from his hands
Let the flag drop. A voice had cried to him
Too loud for denial: ``Fool. Be merciful.''

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The Poet, The Oyster, And Sensitive Plant

© William Cowper

An Oyster, cast upon the shore,

Was heard, though never heard before,

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The Return to Ulster

© Sir Walter Scott

Once again,- but how chang'd since my wand'rings began-

I have heard the deep voice of the Lagan and Bann,

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The Shape of Death

© May Swenson

What does love look like? We know
the shape of death. Death is a cloud
immense and awesome. At first a lid
is lifted from the eye of light:
there is a clap of sound, a white blossom

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The Ring And The Book - Chapter III - The Other Half-Rome

© Robert Browning

ANOTHER DAY that finds her living yet,

Little Pompilia, with the patient brow

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The Penalty

© Rudyard Kipling

Once in life I watched a Star;
 But I whistled, "Let her go!
There are others, fairer far,
 Which my favouring skies shall show
Here I lied, and herein I
Stood to pay the penalty.

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To-----

© Muriel Stuart

Between two common days this day was hung
When Love went to the ending that was his;
His seamless robe was rent, his bow was wrong,
He took at last the sponge's bitter kiss.

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The Trenches

© Frederic Manning

Endless lanes sunken in the clay,  

Bays, and traverses, fringed with wasted herbage,  

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The Royalist

© Alexander Brome

Come, pass about the bowl to me,

A health to our distressëd king!

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The Art Of War. Book II.

© Henry James Pye

The season form'd to fan more pleasing fires,
Parent of blooming hopes and young desires,
When smiling Graces every flower combine,
The blooming wreaths of Love and Peace to twine,
Tempts only now to scenes of blood and death
The daring Warrior urg'd by Glory's breath.

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Troilus And Cresida

© William Wordsworth

FROM CUAUCER
NEXT morning Troilus began to clear
His eyes from sleep, at the first break of day,
And unto Pandarus, his own Brother dear,

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The Poor Of The Borough. Letter XXI: Abel Keene

© George Crabbe

merchant's son,
Choice spirits all, who wish'd him to be one;
It must, no question, give them lively joy,
Hopes long indulged to combat and destroy;
At these they levelled all their skill and

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The Moon Looks In

© Thomas Hardy

I

I have risen again,

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The Wooing Of Gheezis

© Isabella Valancy Crawford

The red chief Gheezis, chief of the golden wampum, lay

And watched the west-wind blow adrift the clouds,

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The Hail-Storm (From The Norse)

© George Borrow

When from our ships we bounded,

I heard, with fear astounded,

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The Value Of Friendship

© Confucius

The woodmen's blows responsive ring,

  As on the trees they fall;

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The Voices Of The Rain

© Roderic Quinn

LAST night, when under troubled skies
The storm went marching o'er the plain,
An elfin music seemed to rise,
A singing in the rain.

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The Gardens

© Emile Verhaeren

The landscape now reveals a change;
A stair--that twinèd elm-boughs hold
Enclosed 'mid hedges mystic, strange--
Inaugurates a green and gold
Vision of gardens, range on range.

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The Helmsman

© Henry Kendall

LIKE one who meets a staggering blow,
  The stout old ship doth reel,
And waters vast go seething past—
But will it last, this fearful blast,
On straining shroud and groaning mast,
  O sailor at the wheel?