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Famous Short Angel Poems. Short Angel Poetry by Famous Poets

Famous Short Angel Poems. Short Angel Poetry by Famous Poets. A collection of the all-time best Angel short poems

See also: Best Famous Short Poems | Short Member Poems | Best Short Member Poems | Top 100 Famous Short Poems

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by Regina Derieva

All My Life

 All my life 
I sought 
an angel. 
And he appeared 
in order to say: 
"I am no angel !"


by Robert Burns

471. Epigram on Jessy Staig’s recovery

 MAXWELL, if merit here you crave,
 That merit I deny;
You save fair Jessie from the grave!—
 An Angel could not die!


by Emily Dickinson

Soul Wilt thou toss again?

 Soul, Wilt thou toss again?
By just such a hazard
Hundreds have lost indeed --
But tens have won an all --

Angel's breathless ballot
Lingers to record thee --
Imps in eager Caucus
Raffle for my Soul!


by Robert Burns

161. Epigram Addressed to an Artist

 DEAR ———, I’ll gie ye some advice,
 You’ll tak it no uncivil:
You shouldna paint at angels mair,
 But try and paint the devil.


To paint an Angel’s kittle wark,
 Wi’ Nick, there’s little danger:
You’ll easy draw a lang-kent face,
 But no sae weel a stranger.—R. B.


by Emily Dickinson

A Cloud withdrew from the Sky

 A Cloud withdrew from the Sky
Superior Glory be
But that Cloud and its Auxiliaries
Are forever lost to me

Had I but further scanned
Had I secured the Glow
In an Hermetic Memory
It had availed me now.

Never to pass the Angel
With a glance and a Bow
Till I am firm in Heaven
Is my intention now.


by Charles Baudelaire

Music

 Take me by the hand;
it's so easy for you, Angel,
for you are the road
even while being immobile.

You see, I'm scared no one
here will look for me again;
I couldn't make use of
whatever was given,

so they abandoned me.
At first the solitude
charmed me like a prelude,
but so much music wounded me.


by Rainer Maria Rilke

What Survives

 Who says that all must vanish?
Who knows, perhaps the flight
of the bird you wound remains,
and perhaps flowers survive
caresses in us, in their ground.

It isn't the gesture that lasts,
but it dresses you again in gold
armor --from breast to knees--
and the battle was so pure
an Angel wears it after you.


by Stephen Crane

It was wrong to do this said the angel

 "It was wrong to do this," said the angel.
"You should live like a flower,
Holding malice like a puppy,
Waging war like a lambkin."

"Not so," quoth the man
Who had no fear of spirits;
"It is only wrong for angels
Who can live like the flowers,
Holding malice like the puppies,
Waging war like the lambkins."


by Emily Dickinson

No Man can compass a Despair

 No Man can compass a Despair --
As round a Goalless Road
No faster than a Mile at once
The Traveller proceed --

Unconscious of the Width --
Unconscious that the Sun
Be setting on His progress --
So accurate the One

At estimating Pain --
Whose own -- has just begun --
His ignorance -- the Angel
That pilot Him along --


by Anna Akhmatova

Crucifix

I
This greatist hour was hallowed and thandered
By  angel's choirs;  fire melted sky.
He asked his Father:"Why am I abandoned...?"
And told his Mother: "Mother, do not cry..."

II

Magdalena struggled, cried and moaned.
Piter sank into the stone trance...
Only there, where Mother stood alone,
None has dared cast a single glance.


by Edgar Lee Masters

Franklin Jones

 If I could have lived another year
I could have finished my flying machine,
And become rich and famous.
Hence it is fitting the workman
Who tried to chisel a dove for me
Made it look more like a chicken.
For what is it all but being hatched,
And running about the yard,
To the day of the block?
Save that a man has an angel's brain,
And sees the ax from the first!


by Charles Simic

Coal

 Dismembered angel
In whose heart the earth is still on fire,
The moon still has not been split-off;
Here is the message
Your long night announces:

Everything my eye encompasses this instant:
This fire, the cupped-hand, this window
With trees and miles of snow beyond it,
Even this thought, this poem,
Will be compressed
Into a lump of your sleep
For some other awakening.


by Philip Larkin

Is It For Now Or For Always

 Is it for now or for always,
The world hangs on a stalk?
Is it a trick or a trysting-place,
The woods we have found to walk?

Is it a mirage or miracle,
Your lips that lift at mine:
And the suns like a juggler's juggling-balls,
Are they a sham or a sign?

Shine out, my sudden angel,
Break fear with breast and brow,
I take you now and for always,
For always is always now.


by Anne Bronte

The Penitent

 I mourn with thee and yet rejoice
That thou shouldst sorrow so;
With Angel choirs I join my voice
To bless the sinner's woe. 
Though friends and kindred turn away
And laugh thy grief to scorn,
I hear the great Redeemer say
'Blessed are ye that mourn'. 

Hold on thy course nor deem it strange
That earthly cords are riven.
Man may lament the wondrous change
But 'There is joy in Heaven'!


by Herman Melville

Art

 In placid hours well-pleased we dream 
Of many a brave unbodied scheme. 
But form to lend, pulsed life create, 
What unlike things must meet and mate: 
A flame to melt--a wind to freeze; 
Sad patience--joyous energies; 
Humility--yet pride and scorn; 
Instinct and study; love and hate; 
Audacity--reverence. These must mate, 
And fuse with Jacob's mystic heart, 
To wrestle with the angel--Art.


by Federico García Lorca

The Weeping

 I have shut my windows.
I do not want to hear the weeping.
But from behind the grey walls.
Nothing is heard but the weeping.

There are few angels that sing.
There are few dogs that bark.
A thousand violins fit in the palm of the hand.
But the weeping is an immense angel.
The weeping is an immense dog.
The weeping is an immense violin.
Tears strangle the wind.
Nothing is heard but the weeping.


by Lisa Zaran

Leaves

 I went looking for God 
but I found you instead. 
Bad luck or destiny, 
you decide. 

Buried in the muck, 
the soot of the city, 
sorrow for an appetite, 
devil on your left shoulder, 
angel on your right. 

You, with your thorny rhythms 
and tragic, midnight melodies. 

My heart never tried 
to commit suicide before. 

Originally published in Literati Magazine, Winter 2005
Copyright © Lisa Zaran, 2005


by Emily Bronte

If grief for grief can touch thee

 If grief for grief can touch thee, 
If answering woe for woe, 
If any truth can melt thee 
Come to me now!

I cannot be more lonely, 
More drear I cannot be! 
My worn heart beats so wildly 
'Twill break for thee--

And when the world despises-- 
When Heaven repels my prayer-- 
Will not mine angel comfort? 
Mine idol hear?

Yes, by the tears I'm poured, 
By all my hours of pain 
O I shall surely win thee, 
Beloved, again!


by Lawrence Ferlinghetti

Number 8

 It was a face which darkness could kill
     in an instant
a face as easily hurt
   by laughter or light

 'We think differently at night'
     she told me once
lying back languidly

   And she would quote Cocteau

'I feel there is an angel in me' she'd say
    'whom I am constantly shocking'

 Then she would smile and look away 
 light a cigarette for me
    sigh and rise

and stretch
 her sweet anatomy

   let fall a stocking


by Emily Dickinson

A little East of Jordan

 A little East of Jordan,
Evangelists record,
A Gymnast and an Angel
Did wrestle long and hard --

Till morning touching mountain --
And Jacob, waxing strong,
The Angel begged permission
To Breakfast -- to return --

Not so, said cunning Jacob!
"I will not let thee go
Except thou bless me" -- Stranger!
The which acceded to --

Light swung the silver fleeces
"Peniel" Hills beyond,
And the bewildered Gymnast
Found he had worsted God!


by Robert Seymour Bridges

Spirits

 Angel spirits of sleep, 
White-robed, with silver hair, 
In your meadows fair, 
Where the willows weep, 
And the sad moonbeam 
On the gliding stream 
Writes her scatter'd dream: 

Angel spirits of sleep, 
Dancing to the weir 
In the hollow roar 
Of its waters deep; 
Know ye how men say 
That ye haunt no more 
Isle and grassy shore 
With your moonlit play; 
That ye dance not here, 
White-robed spirits of sleep, 
All the summer night 
Threading dances light?


by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge

Affection

 The earth that made the rose, 
She also is thy mother, and not I. 
The flame wherewith thy maiden spirit glows 
Was lighted at no hearth that I sit by. 
I am as far below as heaven above thee. 
Were I thine angel, more I could not love thee. 

Bid me defend thee! 
Thy danger over-human strength shall lend me, 
A hand of iron and a heart of steel, 
To strike, to wound, to slay, and not to feel. 
But if you chide me, 
I am a weak, defenceless child beside thee.


by George William Russell

Dream Love

 I DID not deem it half so sweet
To feel thy gentle hand,
As in a dream thy soul to greet
Across wide leagues of land.


Untouched more near to draw to you
Where, amid radiant skies,
Glimmered thy plumes of iris hue,
My Bird of Paradise.


Let me dream only with my heart,
Love first, and after see:
Know thy diviner counterpart
Before I kneel to thee.


So in thy motions all expressed
Thy angel I may view:
I shall not on thy beauty rest,
But beauty’s self in you.


by Allen Ginsberg

A Western Ballad

 When I died, love, when I died
my heart was broken in your care;
I never suffered love so fair
as now I suffer and abide
when I died, love, when I died.

When I died, love, when I died
I wearied in an endless maze
that men have walked for centuries,
as endless as the gate was wide
when I died, love, when I died.

When I died, love, when I died
there was a war in the upper air:
all that happens, happens there;
there was an angel by my side
when I died, love, when I died.


by Kathleen Raine

Nocturne

 Night comes, an angel stands
Measuring out the time of stars,
Still are the winds, and still the hours.

It would be peace to lie
Still in the still hours at the angel's feet,
Upon a star hung in a starry sky,
But hearts another measure beat.

Each body, wingless as it lies,
Sends out its butterfly of night
With delicate wings, and jewelled eyes.

And some upon day's shores are cast,
And some in darkness lost
In waves beyond the world, where float
Somewhere the islands of the blest.


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