Poems begining by T
/ page 899 of 916 /The Auctioneer of Parting
© Emily Dickinson
The Auctioneer of Parting
His "Going, going, gone"
Shouts even from the Crucifix,
And brings his Hammer down --
The Angle of a Landscape
© Emily Dickinson
The Angle of a Landscape --
That every time I wake --
Between my Curtain and the Wall
Upon an ample Crack --
The Admirations -- and Contempts -- of time --
© Emily Dickinson
The Admirations -- and Contempts -- of time --
Show justest -- through an Open Tomb --
The Dying -- as it were a Height
Reorganizes Estimate
That this should feel the need of Death
© Emily Dickinson
That this should feel the need of Death
The same as those that lived
Is such a Feat of Irony
As never was -- achieved --
That Such have died enable Us
© Emily Dickinson
That Such have died enable Us
The tranquiller to die --
That Such have lived,
Certificate for Immortality.
That short -- potential stir
© Emily Dickinson
That short -- potential stir
That each can make but once --
That Bustle so illustrious
'Tis almost Consequence --
That she forgot me was the least
© Emily Dickinson
That she forgot me was the least
I felt it second pain
That I was worthy to forget
Was most I thought upon.
That sacred Closet when you sweep --
© Emily Dickinson
That sacred Closet when you sweep --
Entitled "Memory" --
Select a reverential Broom --
And do it silently.
That odd old man is dead a year --
© Emily Dickinson
That odd old man is dead a year --
We miss his stated Hat.
'Twas such an evening bright and stiff
His faded lamp went out.
That first Day, when you praised Me, Sweet,
© Emily Dickinson
That first Day, when you praised Me, Sweet,
And said that I was strong --
And could be mighty, if I liked --
That Day -- the Days among --
That Distance was between Us
© Emily Dickinson
That Distance was between Us
That is not of Mile or Main --
The Will it is that situates --
Equator -- never can --
Than Heaven more remote,
© Emily Dickinson
Than Heaven more remote,
For Heaven is the root,
But these the flitted seed.
More flown indeed
Than ones that never were,
Or those that hide, and are.
Tell as a Marksman -- were forgotten
© Emily Dickinson
Tell as a Marksman -- were forgotten
Tell -- this Day endures
Ruddy as that coeval Apple
The Tradition bears --
Teach Him -- When He makes the names
© Emily Dickinson
Teach Him -- When He makes the names --
Such an one -- to say --
On his babbling -- Berry -- lips --
As should sound -- to me --
Talk with prudence to a Beggar
© Emily Dickinson
Talk with prudence to a Beggar
Of "Potose," and the mines!
Reverently, to the Hungry
Of your viands, and your wines!
Talk not to me of Summer Trees
© Emily Dickinson
Talk not to me of Summer Trees
The foliage of the mind
A Tabernacle is for Birds
Of no corporeal kind
Taking up the fair Ideal,
© Emily Dickinson
Taking up the fair Ideal,
Just to cast her down
When a fracture -- we discover --
Or a splintered Crown --
Taken from men -- this morning
© Emily Dickinson
Taken from men -- this morning --
Carried by men today --
Met by the Gods with banners --
Who marshalled her away --
Take your Heaven further on
© Emily Dickinson
Take your Heaven further on --
This -- to Heaven divine Has gone --
Had You earlier blundered in
Possibly, e'en You had seen
Take all away from me, but leave me Ecstasy,
© Emily Dickinson
Take all away from me, but leave me Ecstasy,
And I am richer then than all my Fellow Men --
Ill it becometh me to dwell so wealthily
When at my very Door are those possessing more,
In abject poverty --