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Best Famous Corruption Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Corruption poems. This is a select list of the best famous Corruption poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Corruption poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of corruption poems.

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by Christina Rossetti | |

Remember

 Remember me when I am gone away,
 Gone far away into the silent land;
 When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day You tell me of our future that you plann'd: Only remember me; you understand It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while And afterwards remember, do not grieve: For if the darkness and corruption leave A vestige of the thoughts that once I had, Better by far you should forget and smile Than that you should remember and be sad.


by Paul Laurence Dunbar | |

Theology

 "No, the serpent did not
Seduce Eve to the apple.
All that's simply Corruption of the facts.
Adam ate the apple.
Eve ate Adam.
The serpent ate Eve.
This is the dark intestine.
The serpent, meanwhile, Sleeps his meal off in Paradise - Smiling to hear God's querulous calling.
"


by Robinson Jeffers | |

Shine Perishing Republic

 While this America settles in the mould of its vulgarity, heavily thickening 
 to empire
And protest, only a bubble in the molten mass, pops and sighs out, and the
 mass hardens,
I sadly smiling remember that the flower fades to make fruit, the fruit rots 
 to make earth.
Out of the mother; and through the spring exultances, ripeness and deca- dence; and home to the mother.
You making haste haste on decay: not blameworthy; life is good, be it stub- bornly long or suddenly A mortal splendor: meteors are not needed less than mountains: shine, perishing republic.
But for my children, I would have them keep their distance from the thick- ening center; corruption Never has been compulsory, when the cities lie at the monster's feet there are left the mountains.
And boys, be in nothing so moderate as in love of man, a clever servant, insufferable master.
There is the trap that catches noblest spirits, that caught--they say-- God, when he walked on earth.


by Robinson Jeffers | |

Be Angry At The Sun

 That public men publish falsehoods
Is nothing new.
That America must accept Like the historical republics corruption and empire Has been known for years.
Be angry at the sun for setting If these things anger you.
Watch the wheel slope and turn, They are all bound on the wheel, these people, those warriors.
This republic, Europe, Asia.
Observe them gesticulating, Observe them going down.
The gang serves lies, the passionate Man plays his part; the cold passion for truth Hunts in no pack.
You are not Catullus, you know, To lampoon these crude sketches of Caesar.
You are far From Dante's feet, but even farther from his dirty Political hatreds.
Let boys want pleasure, and men Struggle for power, and women perhaps for fame, And the servile to serve a Leader and the dupes to be duped.
Yours is not theirs.


by Edmund Spenser | |

Amoretti LXXIX: Men Call you Fair

 Men call you fair, and you do credit it,
For that your self ye daily such do see:
But the true fair, that is the gentle wit,
And vertuous mind, is much more prais'd of me.
For all the rest, how ever fair it be, Shall turn to naught and lose that glorious hue: But only that is permanent and free From frail corruption, that doth flesh ensue.
That is true beauty: that doth argue you To be divine, and born of heavenly seed: Deriv'd from that fair Spirit, from whom all true And perfect beauty did at first proceed.
He only fair, and what he fair hath made, All other fair, like flowers untimely fade.


by Edmund Spenser | |

Sonnet LXXIX

 MEn call you fayre, and you doe credit it,
For that your selfe ye dayly such doe see:
but the trew fayre, that is the gentle wit,
and vertuous mind is much more praysd of me.
For all the rest, how euer fayre it be, shall turne to nought and loose that glorious hew: but onely that is permanent and free from frayle corruption, that doth flesh ensew.
That is true beautie: that doth argue you to be diuine and borne of heauenly seed: deriu'd from that fayre Spirit, from whom al true and perfect beauty did at first proceed.
He only fayre, and what he fayre hath made, all other fayre lyke flowres vntymely fade.


by Robert William Service | |

Sinister Sooth

 Because my eyes were none to bright
 Strong spectacles I bought,
And lo! there sprang into my sight
 A life beyond my thought:
A world of wonder and delight
 My magic lenses brought.
Aye, sudden leaping in my sight The far became the near; Life unbelievably was bright, And vividly was clear.
My heart was lifted with delight, Then--then I shrank in fear.
For faces I had thought were gay I saw were lined with care, While strange corruption and decay Surprised me everywhere: Dismayed I put my specs away,-- Such truth I could not bear.
And now I do not want to see With clarity of view; For while there's heaven hell may be More tragically true: Though dim may be Reality, Sheer love shines through.


by Robert William Service | |

Visibility

 Because my eyes were none to bright
 Strong spectacles I bought,
And lo! there sprang into my sight
 A life beyond my thought:
A world of wonder and delight
 My magic lenses brought.
Aye, sudden leaping in my sight The far became the near; Life unbelievably was bright, And vividly was clear.
My heart was lifted with delight, Then--then I shrank in fear.
For faces I had thought were gay I saw were lined with care, While strange corruption and decay Surprised me everywhere: Dismayed I put my specs away,-- Such truth I could not bear.
And now I do not want to see With clarity of view; For while there's heaven hell may be More tragically true: Though dim may be Reality, Sheer love shines through.


by Isaac Watts | |

Hymn 122

 Believers buried with Christ in baptism.
Rom.
6:3,4,etc.
Do we not know that solemn word, That we are buried with the Lord, Baptized into his death, and then Put off the body of our sin? Our souls receive diviner breath, Raised from corruption, guilt, and death; So from the grave did Christ arise, And lives to God above the skies.
No more let sin or Satan reign Over our mortal flesh again; The various lusts we served before Shall have dominion now no more.


by John Donne | |

Holy Sonnet XII: Why Are We By All Creatures Waited On?

 Why are we by all creatures waited on?
Why do the prodigal elements supply
Life and food to me, being more pure than I,
Simple, and further from corruption?
Why brook'st thou, ignorant horse, subjection?
Why dost thou, bull, and bore so seelily,
Dissemble weakness, and by one man's stroke die,
Whose whole kind you might swallow and feed upon?
Weaker I am, woe is me, and worse than you,
You have not sinned, nor need be timorous.
But wonder at a greater wonder, for to us Created nature doth these things subdue, But their Creator, whom sin nor nature tied, For us, His creatures, and His foes, hath died.


by Emily Dickinson | |

Sown in dishonor!

 "Sown in dishonor"!
Ah! Indeed!
May this "dishonor" be?
If I were half so fine myself
I'd notice nobody!

"Sown in corruption"!
Not so fast!
Apostle is askew!
Corinthians 1.
15.
narrates A Circumstance or two!


by Emily Bronte | |

I am the only being whose doom...

 I am the only being whose doom
No tongue would ask no eye would mourn
I never caused a thought of gloom
A smile of joy since I was born 

In secret pleasure - secret tears
This changeful life has slipped away
As friendless after eighteen years
As lone as on my natal day 

There have been times I cannot hide
There have been times when this was drear
When my sad soul forgot its pride
And longed for one to love me here 

But those were in the early glow
Of feelings since subdued by care
And they have died so long ago
I hardly now believe they were 

First melted off the hope of youth
Then Fancy's rainbow fast withdrew
And then experience told me truth
In mortal bosoms never grew 

'Twas grief enough to think mankind
All hollow servile insincere -
But worse to trust to my own mind
And find the same corruption there


by Willa Cather | |

LONDON ROSES

 "ROWSES, Rowses! Penny a bunch!" they tell you-- 
Slattern girls in Trafalgar, eager to sell you.
Roses, roses, red in the Kensington sun, Holland Road, High Street, Bayswater, see you and smell you-- Roses of London town, red till the summer is done.
Roses, roses, locust and lilac, perfuming West End, East End, wondrously budding and blooming Out of the black earth, rubbed in a million hands, Foot-trod, sweat-sour over and under, entombing Highways of darkness, deep gutted with iron bands.
"Rowses, rowses! Penny a bunch!" they tell you, Ruddy blooms of corruption, see you and smell you, Born of stale earth, fallowed with squalor and tears-- North shire, south shire, none are like these, I tell you, Roses of London perfumed with a thousand years.