Poems begining by T

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The Sea said "Come" to the Brook --

© Emily Dickinson

The Sea said "Come" to the Brook --
The Brook said "Let me grow" --
The Sea said "Then you will be a Sea --
I want a Brook -- Come now"!

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The Savior must have been

© Emily Dickinson

The Savior must have been
A docile Gentleman --
To come so far so cold a Day
For little Fellowmen --

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The Robin's my Criterion for Tune

© Emily Dickinson

The Robin's my Criterion for Tune --
Because I grow -- where Robins do --
But, were I Cuckoo born --
I'd swear by him --

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The Robin is the One

© Emily Dickinson

The Robin is the One
That interrupt the Morn
With hurried -- few -- express Reports
When March is scarcely on --

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The Robin is a Gabriel

© Emily Dickinson

The Robin is a Gabriel
In humble circumstances --
His Dress denotes him socially,
Of Transport's Working Classes --

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The Robin for the Crumb

© Emily Dickinson

The Robin for the Crumb
Returns no syllable
But long records the Lady's name
In Silver Chronicle.

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The Road was lit with Moon and star --

© Emily Dickinson

The Road was lit with Moon and star --
The Trees were bright and still --
Descried I -- by the distant Light
A Traveller on a Hill --

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The right to perish might be thought

© Emily Dickinson

The right to perish might be thought
An undisputed right --
Attempt it, and the Universe
Upon the opposite

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The Riddle we can guess

© Emily Dickinson

The Riddle we can guess
We speedily despise --
Not anything is stale so long
As Yesterday's surprise --

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The reticent volcano keeps

© Emily Dickinson

The reticent volcano keeps
His never slumbering plan --
Confided are his projects pink
To no precarious man.

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The Rat is the concisest Tenant.

© Emily Dickinson

The Rat is the concisest Tenant.
He pays no Rent.
Repudiates the Obligation --
On Schemes intent

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The pungent atom in the Air

© Emily Dickinson

The pungent atom in the Air
Admits of no debate --
All that is named of Summer Days
Relinquished our Estate --

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The Province of the Saved

© Emily Dickinson

The Province of the Saved
Should be the Art -- To save --
Through Skill obtained in Themselves --
The Science of the Grave

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The Props assist the House

© Emily Dickinson

The Props assist the House
Until the House is built
And then the Props withdraw
And adequate, erect,

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The Products of my Farm are these

© Emily Dickinson

The Products of my Farm are these
Sufficient for my Own
And here and there a Benefit
Unto a Neighbor's Bin.

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The pretty Rain from those sweet Eaves

© Emily Dickinson

The pretty Rain from those sweet Eaves
Her unintending Eyes --
Took her own Heart, including ours,
By innocent Surprise --

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The power to be true to You,

© Emily Dickinson

The power to be true to You,
Until upon my face
The Judgment push his Picture --
Presumptuous of Your Place --

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The Popular Heart is a Cannon first --

© Emily Dickinson

The Popular Heart is a Cannon first --
Subsequent a Drum --
Bells for an Auxiliary
And an Afterward of Rum --

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The Poets light but Lamps --

© Emily Dickinson

The Poets light but Lamps --
Themselves -- go out --
The Wicks they stimulate --
If vital Light

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The Pile of Years is not so high

© Emily Dickinson

The Pile of Years is not so high
As when you came before
But it is rising every Day
From recollection's Floor