Poems begining by T

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The Temeraire

© Herman Melville

The gloomy hulls in armor grim,
  Like clouds o'er moors have met,
And prove that oak, and iron, and man
  Are tough in fibre yet.

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The Pursuit

© Gamaliel Bradford

I had visited her often,
Long had sought, with vain endeavor,
Her obdurate heart to soften;
But she answered, "never, never."

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The Farewell

© Khalil Gibran

So saying he made a signal to the seamen, and straightaway they weighed anchor and cast the ship loose from its moorings, and they moved eastward.
And a cry came from the people as from a single heart, and it rose the dusk and was carried out over the sea like a great trumpeting.
Only Almitra was silent, gazing after the ship until it had vanished into the mist.
And when all the people were dispersed she still stood alone upon the sea-wall, remembering in her heart his saying,
A little while, a moment of rest upon the wind, and another woman shall bear me."

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To Sir Henry Wotton

© John Donne

SIR, more than kisses, letters mingle souls,

For thus, friends absent speak. This ease controls

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The Dream

© George Gordon Byron

IX.
MY dream was past; it had no further change.
It was of a strange order, that the doom
Of these two creatures should be thus traced out
Almost like a reality - the one 
To end in madness - both in misery.

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The Rain: A Song Of Peace

© Denis Florence MacCarthy

The Rain, the Rain, the beautiful Rain-
Welcome, welcome, it cometh again;
It cometh with green to gladden the plain,
And to wake the sweets in the winding lane.

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The Sussex Sailor

© Alfred Noyes

O, once, by Cuckmere Haven,

I heard a sailor sing

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The Brus Book XVII

© John Barbour

[Only Berwick remains in English hands; a burgess offers to betray it]

The lordis off the land war fayne

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The Lord Is My Shepherd

© James Montgomery

The Lord is my Shepherd, no want shall I know;
I feed in green pastures, safe folded I rest;
He leadeth my soul where the still waters flow,
Restores me when wand’ring, redeems when oppressed.

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‘Twas a Land Set Apart

© Henry Lawson

‘Twas a land set apart for a nation

Predestined for times like these –

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The Road Menders

© Robert Laurence Binyon

How solitary gleams the lamplit street
Waiting the far--off morn!
How softly from the unresting city blows
The murmur borne

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The Flower Of The Tropics

© Denis Florence MacCarthy

In the soft sunny regions that circle the waist
Of the globe with a girdle of topaz and gold,
Which heave with the throbbings of life where they're placed,
And glow with the fire of the heart they enfold;

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The Storie Of William Canynge

© Thomas Chatterton

ANENT a brooklette as I laie reclynd,

Listeynge to heare the water glyde alonge,

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The Good Lord Gave

© Dora Sigerson Shorter

The good Lord gave, the Lord has taken from me,

Blessed be His name, His holy will be done

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To Edward Lear: on His Travels in Greece

© Alfred Tennyson

Illyrian woodlands, echoing falls
Of water, sheets of summer glass,
The long divine Peneian pass,
The vast Akrokeraunian walls,

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The Silken Shoe

© Paul Hamilton Hayne

THE firelight danced and wavered
In elvish, twinkling glee
On the leaves and crimson berries
Of the great green Christmas Tree;

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The Path Through The Corn

© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

WAVY and bright in the summer air,
Like a pleasant sea when the wind blows fair,
And its roughest breath has scarcely curled
The green highway to a distant world,--

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The Grave

© John Le Gay Brereton

In the grey dawn I lie within my bed

Still as a frozen lake that pats no more

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Tarantula, Or The Dance Of Death

© Anthony Evan Hecht

During the plague I came into my own.
It was a time of smoke-pots in the house
Against infection. The blind head of bone
  Grinned its abuse