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Best Famous Horse Poems

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

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by Wang Wei | |

AT PARTING

I dismount from my horse and I offer you wine, 
And I ask you where you are going and why.
And you answer: "I am discontent And would rest at the foot of the southern mountain.
So give me leave and ask me no questions.
White clouds pass there without end.
"


by Wang Wei | |

Farewell

 Down horse drink gentleman alcohol 
Ask gentleman what place go 
Gentleman say not achieve wish 
Return lie south mountain near 
Still go nothing more ask 
White cloud not exhaust time 


Dismounting, I offer my friend a cup of wine, 
I ask what place he is headed to.
He says he has not achieved his aims, Is retiring to the southern hills.
Now go, and ask me nothing more, White clouds will drift on for all time.


by Richard Wilbur | |

The Ride

 The horse beneath me seemed 
To know what course to steer 
Through the horror of snow I dreamed,
And so I had no fear,

Nor was I chilled to death 
By the wind’s white shudders, thanks 
To the veils of his patient breath 
And the mist of sweat from his flanks.
It seemed that all night through, Within my hand no rein And nothing in my view But the pillar of his mane, I rode with magic ease At a quick, unstumbling trot Through shattering vacancies On into what was not, Till the weave of the storm grew thin, With a threading of cedar-smoke, And the ice-blind pane of an inn Shimmered, and I awoke.
How shall I now get back To the inn-yard where he stands, Burdened with every lack, And waken the stable-hands To give him, before I think That there was no horse at all, Some hay, some water to drink, A blanket and a stall?


by Richard Wilbur | |

Parable

 I read how Quixote in his random ride
Came to a crossing once, and lest he lose
The purity of chance, would not decide

Whither to fare, but wished his horse to choose.
For glory lay wherever turned the fable.
His head was light with pride, his horse's shoes Were heavy, and he headed for the stable.


by William Henry Davies | |

The Happy Child

 I saw this day sweet flowers grow thick -- 
But not one like the child did pick.
I heard the packhounds in green park -- But no dog like the child heard bark.
I heard this day bird after bird -- But not one like the child has heard.
A hundred butterflies saw I -- But not one like the child saw fly.
I saw the horses roll in grass -- But no horse like the child saw pass.
My world this day has lovely been -- But not like what the child has seen.


by Edwin Arlington Robinson | |

The Long Race

 Up the old hill to the old house again 
Where fifty years ago the friend was young 
Who should be waiting somewhere there among 
Old things that least remembered most remain, 
He toiled on with a pleasure that was pain
To think how soon asunder would be flung 
The curtain half a century had hung 
Between the two ambitions they had slain.
They dredged an hour for words, and then were done.
“Good-bye!… You have the same old weather-vane— Your little horse that’s always on the run.
” And all the way down back to the next train, Down the old hill to the old road again, It seemed as if the little horse had won.


by George William Russell | |

In the Womb

 STILL rests the heavy share on the dark soil:
Upon the black mould thick the dew-damp lies:
The horse waits patient: from his lowly toil
The ploughboy to the morning lifts his eyes.
The unbudding hedgerows dark against day’s fires Glitter with gold-lit crystals: on the rim Over the unregarding city’s spires The lonely beauty shines alone for him.
And day by day the dawn or dark enfolds And feeds with beauty eyes that cannot see How in her womb the mighty mother moulds The infant spirit for eternity.


by David Herbert Lawrence | |

The White Horse

 The youth walks up to the white horse, to put its halter on
and the horse looks at him in silence.
They are so silent, they are in another world.


by Walter de la Mare | |

The Song of Finis

 At the edge of All the Ages 
A Knight sate on his steed, 
His armor red and thin with rust 
His soul from sorrow freed; 
And he lifted up his visor 
From a face of skin and bone, 
And his horse turned head and whinnied 
As the twain stood there alone.
No bird above that steep of time Sang of a livelong quest; No wind breathed, Rest: "Lone for an end!" cried Knight to steed, Loosed an eager rein-- Charged with his challenge into space: And quiet did quiet remain.


by A S J Tessimond | |

Epilogue

 "Why can't you say what you mean straight out in prose?"
Well, say it yourself: then say "It's that, but more,
Or less perhaps, or not that way, or not
That after all.
" The meaning of a song Might be an undernote; this tree might mean That leaf as much as trunk, branch, other leaves.
And does one know till one begins? And let's Look over hedges far as eyesight lets us, Since road's not, surely, road, but road and hedge And feet and sky and smell of hawthorn, horse-dung.


by J R R Tolkien | |

Lament for Eorl the Young

 Where now is the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing?
Where is the helm and the hauberk, and the bright hair flowing?
Where is the hand on the harpstring, and the red fire glowing?
They have passed like rain on the mountain, like a wind in the meadow;
The days have gone down in the West behind the hills into shadow.
Who shall gather the smoke of the deadwood burning, Or behold the flowing years from the Sea returning?


by J R R Tolkien | |

Theoden

 From dark Dunharrow in the dim morning
With thane and captain rode Thengel's son:
To Edoras he came, the ancient halls
Of the Mark-wardens mist-enshrouded;
Golden timbers were in gloom mantled.
Farewell he bade to his free people, Hearth and high-seat, and the hallowed places, Where long he had feasted ere the light faded.
Forth rode the king, fear behind him, Fate before him.
Fealty kept he; Oaths he had taken, all fulfilled them.
Forth rode Theoden.
Five nights and days East and onward rode the Eolingas.
Through Folde and Fenmarch and the Firienwood, Six thousand spears to Sunlending, Mundberg the mighty under Mindolluin, Sea-kings city in the South-kingdom Foe-beleaguered, fire-encircled.
Doom drove them on.
Darkness took them, Horse and horseman; hoofbeats afar Sank into silence: so the songs tell us.


by Sir Philip Sidney | |

Sonnet XLI: Having This Day My Horse

 Having this day my horse, my hand, my lance
Guided so well that I obtain'd the prize,
Both by the judgment of the English eyes
And of some sent from that sweet enemy France;
Horsemen my skill in horsemanship advance,
Town folks my strength; a daintier judge applies
His praise to sleight which from good use doth rise;
Some lucky wits impute it but to chance;
Others, because of both sides I do take
My blood from them who did excel in this,
Think Nature me a man of arms did make.
How far they shot awry! The true cause is, Stella look'd on, and from her heav'nly face Sent forth the beams which made so fair my race.


by Sir Philip Sidney | |

Astrophel and Stella: XLI

 Having this day my horse, my hand, my lance
Guided so well that I obtain'd the prize,
Both by the judgment of the English eyes
And of some sent from that sweet enemy France;
Horsemen my skill in horsemanship advance,
Town folks my strength; a daintier judge applies
His praise to sleight which from good use doth rise;
Some lucky wits impute it but to chance;
Others, because of both sides I do take
My blood from them who did excel in this,
Think Nature me a man of arms did make.
How far they shot awry! The true cause is, Stella look'd on, and from her heav'nly face Sent forth the beams which made so fair my race.


by Alec Derwent (A D) Hope | |

Phallus

 This was the gods' god, 
The leashed divinity, 
Divine divining rod 
And Me within the me.
By mindlight tower and tree Its shadow on the ground Throw, and in darkness she Whose weapon is her wound Fends off the knife, the sword, The Tiger and the Snake; It stalks the virgin's bed And bites her wide awake.
Her Bab-el-Mandeb waits Her Red Sea gate of tears: The blood-sponge god dilates, His rigid pomp appears; Sets in the toothless mouth A tongue of prophecy.
It speaks in naked Truth Indifference for me Love, a romantic slime That lubricates his way Against the stream of Time.
And though I win the day His garrisons deep down Ignore my victory, Abandon this doomed town, Crawl through a sewer and flee.
A certain triumph, of course, Bribes me with brief joy: Stiffly my Wooden Horse Receive into your Troy.


by | |

Banbury Cross


Ride a cock-horse to Banbury Cross,
To see an old lady upon a white horse.
Rings on her fingers, and bells on her toes,
She shall have music wherever she goes.


by | |

For Want Of A Nail


For want of a nail, the shoe was lost;
For want of the shoe, the horse was lost;
For want of the horse, the rider was lost;
For want of the rider, the battle was lost;
For want of the battle, the kingdom was lost,
And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.


by | |

See, See


See, see! What shall I see?
A horse's head where his tail should be.


by | |

The Blacksmith


"Robert Barnes, my fellow fine,
Can you shoe this horse of mine?"
"Yes, good sir, that I can,
As well as any other man;
There's a nail, and there's a prod,
Now, good sir, your horse is shod.
"


by | |

The Hobby-Horse

 

I had a little hobby-horse,
    And it was dapple gray;
Its head was made of pea-straw,
    Its tail was made of hay.

I sold it to an old woman
    For a copper groat;
And I'll not sing my song again
    Without another coat.