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It is a sinking
- Edwin Brock
It is an inlet arm from the Bosphoros Strait,
- Raj Nandy
It is easy to come here a stranger
- Carl Sandburg
It is from Nectan's mossy steep
- Robert Stephen Hawker
It is growing dark! Yet one line more,
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
It is hard to know where the light falls from
- Clarissa Aykroyd
It is like worship, this Easter queue
- Will Hatchett
It is little I repair to the matches of the Southron folk,
- Francis Thompson
It is not for what you are or do
- Nathaniel Frothingham
It is portentous, and a thing of state
- Vachel Lindsay
It is the close of day
- Cicely Fox Smith
It is the mid-May sun that, rayless and peacefully gleaming,
- Richard Milnes, 1st Baron Houghton
It is the noon of night. On this calm spot
- George Dennison Prentice
It is the sacred hour: above the far
- Harold Monro
It is wisdom to think the people are the city.
- Carl Sandburg
It lieth low near merry England's heart
- Wilfred Owen
It lieth, gazing on the midnight sky
- Percy Bysshe Shelley
It never looks like summer here
- Thomas Hardy
IT puzzles much the sages’ brains
- Nathaniel Cotton
It seemed that it were well to kiss first earth
- Ivor Gurney
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Poems about Places
Poems about Places