Car poems
/ page 636 of 738 /
On Anothers Sorrow
© William Blake
Can I see anothers woe,
And not be in sorrow too?
Can I see anothers grief,
And not seek for kind relief.
The Little Girl Found
© William Blake
All the night in woe,
Lyca's parents go:
Over vallies deep.
While the desarts weep.
The Clod & The Pebble
© William Blake
Love seeketh not Itself to please.
Nor for itself hath any care;
But for another gives its ease.
And builds a Heaven in Hells despair.
The Divine Image
© William Blake
To Mercy Pity Peace and Love.
All pray in their distress:
And to these virtues of delight
Return their thankfulness.
The Little Boy Lost
© William Blake
Nought loves another as itself
Nor venerates another so.
Nor is it possible to Thought
A greater than itself to know:
The Human Abstract
© William Blake
Pity would be no more,
If we did not make somebody Poor;
And Mercy no more could be.
If all were as happy as we;
The Little Black Boy
© William Blake
My mother bore me in the southern wild,
And I am black, but O! my soul is white.
White as an angel is the English child:
But I am black as if bereav'd of light.
Auguries Of Innocence
© William Blake
To see a world in a grain of sand
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And eternity in an hour.
The Echoing Green
© William Blake
The Sun does arise,
And make happy the skies.
The merry bells ring,
To welcome the Spring.
The School Boy
© William Blake
I love to rise in a summer morn,
When the birds sing on every tree;
The distant huntsman winds his horn,
And the sky-lark sings with me.
O! what sweet company.
Yarner
© Graham Burchell
Many divert to watch me. Threatened,
they pause, cut short their song, stop
feeding, mating, working the cycle
of dispersion, growth and decay.
Someone Is Harshly Coughing As Before
© Delmore Schwartz
But it is God, who has caught cold again,
Wandering helplessly in the world once more,
Now he is phthisic, and he is, poor Keats
(Pardon, O Father, unknowable Dear, this word,
Only the cartoon is lucid, only the curse is heard),
Longing for Eden, afraid of the coming war.
Two Lyrics From Kilroy's Carnival: A Masque
© Delmore Schwartz
"--Kiss me there where pride is glittering
Kiss me where I am ripened and round fruit
Kiss me wherever, however, I am supple, bare and flare
(Let the bell be rung as long as I am young:
let ring and fly like a great bronze wing!)
The Journey Of A Poem Compared To All The Sad Variety Of Travel
© Delmore Schwartz
A poem moves forward,
Like the passages and percussions of trains in progress
A pattern of recurrence, a hammer of repetetiveoccurrence
Prothalamion
© Delmore Schwartz
"little soul, little flirting,
little perverse one
where are you off to now?
little wan one, firm one
little exposed one...
and never make fun of me again."
Tired And Unhappy, You Think Of Houses
© Delmore Schwartz
Tired and unhappy, you think of houses
Soft-carpeted and warm in the December evening,
While snow's white pieces fall past the window,
And the orange firelight leaps.
In The Naked Bed, In Plato's Cave
© Delmore Schwartz
In the naked bed, in Plato's cave,
Reflected headlights slowly slid the wall,
Carpenters hammered under the shaded window,
Wind troubled the window curtains all night long,
Apollo Musagete, Poetry, And The Leader Of The Muses
© Delmore Schwartz
O the endless fecundity of poetry is equaled
By its endless inexhaustible freshness, as in the discovery
of America and of poetry.
What Is To Be Given
© Delmore Schwartz
What is to be given,
Is spirit, yet animal,
Colored, like heaven,
Blue, yellow, beautiful.
Poem (Old man in the crystal morning after snow)
© Delmore Schwartz
You build his comic head, you place his comic hat;
Old age is not so serious, and I
By the window sad and watchful as a cat,
Build to this poem of old age and of snow,
And weep: you are my snow man and I know
I near you, you near him, all of us must die.
