January Morning Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BCD BEFGE A HGIJ A KLMN B OBOMP B QRS B TUV B WBO B EEXYZA2B2CC2 O D2CCCCCOE2CB O OZOOF2G2H2O B CDI2BEBE B PBEJ2K2BE B BPYL2M2N2BY B C2K2 B BEO2P2BQ2R2S2T2PU2RV 2T2| I | A |
| - | |
| I have discovered that most of | B |
| the beauties of travel are due to | C |
| the strange hours we keep to see them | D |
| - | |
| the domes of the Church of | B |
| the Paulist Fathers in Weehawken | E |
| against a smoky dawn the heart stirred | F |
| are beautiful as Saint Peters | G |
| approached after years of anticipation | E |
| - | |
| II | A |
| - | |
| Though the operation was postponed | H |
| I saw the tall probationers | G |
| in their tan uniforms | I |
| hurrying to breakfast | J |
| - | |
| III | A |
| - | |
| and from basement entries | K |
| neatly coiffed middle aged gentlemen | L |
| with orderly moustaches and | M |
| well brushed coats | N |
| - | |
| IV | B |
| - | |
| and the sun dipping into the avenues | O |
| streaking the tops of | B |
| the irregular red houselets | O |
| and | M |
| the gay shadows drooping and drooping | P |
| - | |
| V | B |
| - | |
| and a young horse with a green bed quilt | Q |
| on his withers shaking his head | R |
| bared teeth and nozzle high in the air | S |
| - | |
| VI | B |
| - | |
| and a semicircle of dirt colored men | T |
| about a fire bursting from an old | U |
| ash can | V |
| - | |
| VII | B |
| - | |
| and the worn | W |
| blue car rails like the sky | B |
| gleaming among the cobbles | O |
| - | |
| VIII | B |
| - | |
| and the rickety ferry boat Arden | E |
| What an object to be called Arden | E |
| among the great piers on the | X |
| ever new river | Y |
| Put me a Touchstone | Z |
| at the wheel white gulls and we'll | A2 |
| follow the ghost of the Half Moon | B2 |
| to the North West Passage and through | C |
| at Albany for all that | C2 |
| - | |
| IX | O |
| - | |
| Exquisite brown waves long | D2 |
| circlets of silver moving over you | C |
| enough with crumbling ice crusts among you | C |
| The sky has come down to you | C |
| lighter than tiny bubbles face to | C |
| face with you | C |
| His spirit is | O |
| a white gull with delicate pink feet | E2 |
| and a snowy breast for you to | C |
| hold to your lips delicately | B |
| - | |
| X | O |
| - | |
| The young doctor is dancing with happiness | O |
| in the sparkling wind alone | Z |
| at the prow of the ferry He notices | O |
| the curdy barnacles and broken ice crusts | O |
| left at the slip's base by the low tide | F2 |
| and thinks of summer and green | G2 |
| shell crusted ledges among | H2 |
| the emerald eel grass | O |
| - | |
| XI | B |
| - | |
| Who knows the Palisades as I do | C |
| knows the river breaks east from them | D |
| above the city but they continue south | I2 |
| under the sky to bear a crest of | B |
| little peering houses that brighten | E |
| with dawn behind the moody | B |
| water loving giants of Manhattan | E |
| - | |
| XII | B |
| - | |
| Long yellow rushes bending | P |
| above the white snow patches | B |
| purple and gold ribbon | E |
| of the distant wood | J2 |
| what an angle | K2 |
| you make with each other as | B |
| you lie there in contemplation | E |
| - | |
| XIII | B |
| - | |
| Work hard all your young days | B |
| and they'll find you too some morning | P |
| staring up under | Y |
| your chiffonier at its warped | L2 |
| bass wood bottom and your soul | M2 |
| out | N2 |
| among the little sparrows | B |
| behind the shutter | Y |
| - | |
| XIV | B |
| - | |
| and the flapping flags are at | C2 |
| half mast for the dead admiral | K2 |
| - | |
| XV | B |
| - | |
| All this | B |
| was for you old woman | E |
| I wanted to write a poem | O2 |
| that you would understand | P2 |
| For what good is it to me | B |
| if you can't understand it | Q2 |
| But you got to try hard | R2 |
| But | S2 |
| Well you know how | T2 |
| the young girls run giggling | P |
| on Park Avenue after dark | U2 |
| when they ought to be home in bed | R |
| Well | V2 |
| that's the way it is with me somehow | T2 |
William Carlos Williams
(1)
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About January Morning
January Morning is a poem by William Carlos Williams. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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