Poems begining by T
/ page 767 of 916 /
The Land Of Dreams
© William Blake
Awake, awake my little Boy!
Thou wast thy Mother's only joy:
Why dost thou weep in thy gentle sleep?
Awake! thy Father does thee keep.
The Lamb
© William Blake
Little Lamb, who made thee
Does thou know who made thee
Gave thee life & bid thee feed.
By the stream & o'er the mead;
The Chimney-Sweeper (Experience)
© William Blake
A little black thing among the snow:
Crying weep, weep, in notes of woe!
Where are thy father & mother? say?
They are both gone up to the church to pray.
The Tyger
© William Blake
Tyger Tyger. burning bright,
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or eye.
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
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.
The Garden Of Love
© William Blake
I went to the Garden of Love.
And saw what I never had seen:
A Chapel was built in the midst,
Where I used to play on the green.
The Chimney Sweeper (Innocence)
© William Blake
When my mother died I was very young,
And my father sold me while yet my tongue,
Could scarcely cry weep weep weep weep,
So your chimneys I sweep & in soot I sleep.
The Sick Rose
© William Blake
O Rose thou art sick.
The invisible worm.
That flies in the night
In the howling storm:
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
The First Night Of Fall And Falling Rain
© Delmore Schwartz
The common rain had come again
Slanting and colorless, pale and anonymous,
Fainting falling in the first evening
Of the first perception of the actual fall,
This Is A Poem I Wrote At Night, Before The Dawn
© Delmore Schwartz
This is a poem I wrote before I died and was reborn:
- After the years of the apples ripening and the eagles
soaring,
After the festival here the small flowers gleamed like the
The Greatest Thing In North America
© Delmore Schwartz
Under the famous names upon the pediment:
Thales, Aristotle,
Cicero, Augustine, Scotus, Galileo,
Joseph, Odysseus, Hamlet, Columbus and Spinoza,
Anna Karenina, Alyosha Karamazov, Sherlock Holmes.
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.
The Sin Of Hamlet
© Delmore Schwartz
And when it comes, escape is small; the door
Creaks; the worms of fear spread veins; the furtive
Fugitive, looking backward, sees his
Ghost in the mirror, his shameful eyes, his mouth diseased.
The Choir And Music Of Solitude And Silence
© Delmore Schwartz
Love is the most difficult and dangerous form of courage.
Courage is the most desperate, admirable and noble kind of
love.
The Beautiful American Word, Sure
© Delmore Schwartz
The beautiful American word, Sure,
As I have come into a room, and touch
The lamp's button, and the light blooms with such
Certainty where the darkness loomed before,
The Ballet Of The Fifth Year
© Delmore Schwartz
Where the sea gulls sleep or indeed where they fly
Is a place of different traffic. Although I
Consider the fishing bay (where I see them dip and curve
And purely glide) a place that weakens the nerve
To Helen
© Delmore Schwartz
O Sea! ... 'Tis I, risen from death once more
To hear the waves' harmonious roar
And see the galleys, sharp, in dawn's great awe
Raised from the dark by the rising and gold oar.
