Poem Lake | Page 3908 | The Greatest Poems of All Time

When I count the seeds When I count the seeds That are sown beneath, To bloom so, bye and bye — When I con the people Lain so low, To be received as high — When I believe the garden Mortal shall not see — ... Poet:	When I have seen the Sun emerge When I have seen the Sun emerge From His amazing House — And leave a Day at every Door A Deed, in every place — Without the incident of Fame Or accident of Noise — The Earth has seemed to me a Drum,... Poet:	When I hoped I feared — When I hoped I feared — Since I hoped I dared Everywhere alone As a Church remain — Spectre cannot harm — Serpent cannot charm — He deposes Doom Who hath suffered him — Poet:	When I hoped, I recollect When I hoped, I recollect Just the place I stood — At a Window facing West — Roughest Air — was good — Not a Sleet could bite me — Not a frost could cool — Hope it was that kept me warm — ... Poet:
When I see a Rubens Rembrant Correggio *** * *** When I see a Rubens Rembrant Correggio I think of the Crippled Harry & Slobbering Joe And then I question thus are artists rules To be drawn from the works of two manifest fools ... Poet:	When I was small, a Woman died — When I was small, a Woman died — Today — her Only Boy Went up from the Potomac — His face all Victory To look at her — How slowly The Seasons must have turned Till Bullets clipt an Angle ... Poet:	When Katie walks, this simple pair accompany her side, When Katie walks, this simple pair accompany her side, When Katie runs unwearied they follow on the road, When Katie kneels, their loving hands still clasp her pious knee — Ah! Katie! Smile at Fortune, with two so knit to thee! Poet:	When Klopstock England defied If Blake could do this when he rose up from shite What might he not do if he sat down to write^[4] Poet:
When Memory is full When Memory is full Put on the perfect Lid — This Morning's finest syllable Presumptuous Evening said — Poet:	When Night is almost done — When Night is almost done — And Sunrise grows so near That we can touch the Spaces — It's time to smooth the Hair — And get the Dimples ready — And wonder we could care For that old — faded Midnight... Poet: