James Thomson

[Bysshe Vanolis] (23 November 1834 - 3 June 1882 / Port Glasgow, Scotland)

James Thomson Poems

1. L'Ancien Regime 1/3/2003
2. Sunday At Hampstead 1/3/2003
3. The Naked Goddess 1/3/2003
4. Two Sonnets 1/3/2003
5. Mater Tenebrarum 1/3/2003
6. A Song Of Sighing 1/3/2003
7. In A Christian Churchyard 1/3/2003
8. Mr. Maccall At Cleveland Hall 1/3/2003
9. The Vine 1/3/2003
10. For I Must Sing Of All I Feel And Know 1/3/2003
11. Four Points In A Life 1/3/2003
12. In The Room 1/3/2003
13. A Chant 5/6/2012
14. The Doom Of A City 5/6/2012
15. The Doom Of A City Part Ii: The City 5/6/2012
16. E.B.B. 5/6/2012
17. From The Midst Of The Fire 5/6/2012
18. Insomnia 5/6/2012
19. Life's Hebe 5/6/2012
20. Approach To St. Paul's 1/3/2003
21. Day 1/3/2003
22. Philosophy 1/3/2003
23. Proem 1/3/2003
24. Lines On His Twenty-Third Birthday 5/6/2012
25. The Lord Of The Castle Of Indolence 5/6/2012
26. A Polish Insurgent 5/6/2012
27. A Recusant 5/6/2012
28. Through Foulest Fogs 5/6/2012
29. To A Pianiste 5/6/2012
30. To H.A.B. On My Forty-Seventh Birthday 5/6/2012
31. Virtue And Vice 5/6/2012
32. In The Train 1/3/2003
33. Lilah, Alice, Hypatia 5/6/2012
34. Two Lovers 1/3/2003
35. Night 1/3/2003
36. On George Herbert's Poems 5/6/2012
37. Gifts 1/3/2003
38. Suggested By Matthew Arnold's Stanzas 1/3/2003
39. Once In A Saintly Passion 1/3/2003
40. Art 1/3/2003
Best Poem of James Thomson

William Blake

He came to the desert of London town
Gray miles long;
He wandered up and he wandered down,
Singing a quiet song.

He came to the desert of London town,
Mirk miles broad;
He wandered up and he wandered down,
Ever alone with God.

There were thousands and thousands of human kind
In this desert of brick and stone;
But some were deaf and some were blind,
And he was there alone.

At length the good hour came; he died
As he had lived, alone.
He was not missed from the desert wide;
Perhaps he was found at the throne.

Read the full of William Blake

Two Sonnets

I

"Why are your songs all wild and bitter sad
As funeral dirges with the orphans' cries?
Each night since first the world was made hath had
A sequent day to laugh it down the skies.
Chant us a glee to make our hearts rejoice,
Or seal in silence this unmanly moan."
My friend, I have no power to rule my voice --

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