Poems begining by T

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The House Of Dust: Part 02: 05:

© Conrad Aiken

Round white clouds roll slowly above the housetops,
Over the clear red roofs they flow and pass.
A flock of pigeons rises with blue wings flashing,
Rises with whistle of wings, hovers an instant,
And settles slowly again on the tarnished grass.

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To My Country

© Mikhail Lermontov

With love of my own race I cling unto my country,
Whatever dubious reason may protesting cry;
The shame alone of all her blood bought glory,
Her haughty self-assurance, conscious pride,
And the ancestral faith's traditions dark,
With woe have penetrated all my heart.

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The Temperaments

© Ezra Pound

Nine adulteries, 12 liaisons, 64 fornications and

something approaching a rape

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The Mares Of The Camargue

© George Meredith

[From the Mireio of Mistral]

A hundred mares, all white! their manes

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Thought Of A Briton On The Subjugation Of Switzerland

© William Wordsworth

TWO Voices are there; one is of the sea,

One of the mountains; each a mighty Voice:

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The Impecunious Cricket And The Frugal Ant

© Guy Wetmore Carryl

  THE MORAL is: Albeit lots
  Of people follow Dr. Watts,
  The sluggard, when his means are scant,
  Should seek an uncle, not an ant!

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The House By The Side Of The Road

© Sam Walter Foss

There are hermit souls that live withdrawn

In the place of their self-content;

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The Locomotive

© Julian Tuwim

A big locomotive has pulled into town,
Heavy, humungus, with sweat rolling down,
A plump jumbo olive.
Huffing and puffing and panting and smelly,
Fire belches forth from her fat cast iron belly.

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The Eagle

© Allen Tate

Say never the strong heart
In the consuming breath
Cries out unto the dark
The skinny death.

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To-morrow

© Percy Bysshe Shelley

Where art thou, beloved To-morrow?
When young and old, and strong and weak,
Rich and poor, through joy and sorrow,
Thy sweet smiles we ever seek,--
In thy place--ah! well-a-day!
We find the thing we fled--To-day.

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The Armada

© Thomas Babbington Macaulay

Attend, all ye who list to hear our noble England's praise; 

I tell of the thrice famous deeds she wrought in ancient days, 

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The Tweed Visited

© William Lisle Bowles

O Tweed! a stranger, that with wandering feet

  O'er hill and dale has journeyed many a mile,

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Testament

© Sara Teasdale

I said, "I will take my life
And throw it away;
I who was fire and song
Will turn to clay."

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Two Graves

© Paul Hamilton Hayne

IT glooms forlornly 'mid wan ocean dunes,
A desolate grave-mound on a dreary lea,
Touched by sad splendors of gray-misted moons,
Or veiled by shivering spray-drifts from the sea.

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The Gypsy Girl

© Ralph Hodgson

"Come, try your skill, kind gentlemen,
A penny for three tries!"
Some threw and lost, some threw and won
A ten-a-penny prize.

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The Rose

© James Whitcomb Riley

It tossed its head at the wooing breeze;
  And the sun, like a bashful swain,
Beamed on it through the waving trees
  With a passion all in vain,--
For my rose laughed in a crimson glee,
And hid in the leaves in wait for me.

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The Clay

© Jones Very

Thou shalt do what Thou wilt with thine own hand,

Thou form'st the spirit like the moulded clay;

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The Women Who Ministered Unto Him

© George MacDonald

Enough he labours for his hire;
Yea, nought can pay his pain;
But powers that wear and waste and tire,
Need help to toil again.

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The Garret

© Paul Laurence Dunbar

Within a London garret high,

  Above the roofs and near the sky,