Poems begining by T

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The Auctioneer of Parting

© Emily Dickinson

The Auctioneer of Parting
His "Going, going, gone"
Shouts even from the Crucifix,
And brings his Hammer down --

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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 --

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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

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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 --

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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.

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That short -- potential stir

© Emily Dickinson

That short -- potential stir
That each can make but once --
That Bustle so illustrious
'Tis almost Consequence --

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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.

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That sacred Closet when you sweep --

© Emily Dickinson

That sacred Closet when you sweep --
Entitled "Memory" --
Select a reverential Broom --
And do it silently.

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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.

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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 --

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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 --

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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.

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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 --

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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 --

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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!

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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

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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 --

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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 --

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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

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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 --