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Famous Short For Her Poems. Short For Her Poetry by Famous Poets

Famous Short For Her Poems. Short For Her Poetry by Famous Poets. A collection of the all-time best For Her 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 Ezra Pound

Fan-Piece For Her Imperial Lord

 O fan of white silk,
clear as frost on the grass-blade,

You also are laid aside.


by Emily Dickinson

Apology for Her

 Apology for Her
Be rendered by the Bee --
Herself, without a Parliament
Apology for Me.


by Emily Dickinson

She rose as high as His Occasion

 She rose as high as His Occasion
Then sought the Dust --
And lower lay in low Westminster
For Her brief Crest --


by Emily Dickinson

Warm in her Hand these accents lie

 Warm in her Hand these accents lie
While faithful and afar
The Grace so awkward for her sake
Its fond subjection wear --


by Hugo Williams

During An Absence

 Now that she has left the room for a moment
to powder her nose,
we watch and wait, watch and wait,
for her to bring back the purpose into our lives.


by William Butler Yeats

A Man Young And Old: III. The Mermaid

 A mermaid found a swimming lad,
Picked him for her own,
Pressed her body to his body,
Laughed; and plunging down
Forgot in cruel happiness
That even lovers drown.


by Robert Herrick

An Epitaph Upon A Virgin

 Here a solemn fast we keep,
While all beauty lies asleep;
Hushed be all things, no noise here,
But the toning of a tear,
Or the sigh of such as bring
Cowslips for her covering.


by Emily Dickinson

The earth has many keys

 The earth has many keys,
Where melody is not
Is the unknown peninsula.
Beauty is nature's fact.

But witness for her land,
And witness for her sea,
The cricket is her utmost
Of elegy to me.


by Emily Dickinson

All that I do

 All that I do
Is in review
To his enamored mind
I know his eye
Where e'er I ply
Is pushing close behind
Not any Port
Nor any flight
But he doth there preside
What omnipresence lies in wait
For her to be a Bride


by Robert Herrick

UPON A MAID

 Here she lies, in bed of spice,
Fair as Eve in paradise;
For her beauty, it was such,
Poets could not praise too much.
Virgins come, and in a ring
Her supremest REQUIEM sing;
Then depart, but see ye tread
Lightly, lightly o'er the dead.


by William Butler Yeats

To A Young Girl

 My dear, my dear, I know
More than another
What makes your heart beat so;
Not even your own mother
Can know it as I know,
Who broke my heart for her
When the wild thought,
That she denies
And has forgot,
Set all her blood astir
And glittered in her eyes.


by Edna St Vincent Millay

Chorus

 Give away her gowns,
Give away her shoes;
She has no more use
For her fragrant gowns;
Take them all down,
Blue, green, blue,
Lilac, pink, blue,
From their padded hangers;
She will dance no more
In her narrow shoes;
Sweep her narrow shoes
From the closet floor.


by Laurence Binyon

O World be Nobler

 O WORLD, be nobler, for her sake! 
 If she but knew thee what thou art, 
What wrongs are borne, what deeds are done 
In thee, beneath thy daily sun, 
 Know'st thou not that her tender heart 
For pain and very shame would break? 
O World, be nobler, for her sake!


by Percy Bysshe Shelley

A widow bird sate mourning for her Love

A WIDOW bird sate mourning for her Love 
Upon a wintry bough; 
The frozen wind crept on above  
The freezing stream below. 

There was no leaf upon the forest bare. 5 
No flower upon the ground  
And little motion in the air 
Except the mill-wheel's sound. 


by Emily Dickinson

Glowing is her Bonnet

 Glowing is her Bonnet,
Glowing is her Cheek,
Glowing is her Kirtle,
Yet she cannot speak.

Better as the Daisy
From the Summer hill
Vanish unrecorded
Save by tearful rill --

Save by loving sunrise
Looking for her face.
Save by feet unnumbered
Pausing at the place.


by Carl Sandburg

Helga

 THE WISHES on this child’s mouth
Came like snow on marsh cranberries;
The tamarack kept something for her;
The wind is ready to help her shoes.
The north has loved her; she will be
A grandmother feeding geese on frosty
Mornings; she will understand
Early snow on the cranberries
Better and better then.


by Emily Dickinson

A Bee his burnished Carriage

 A Bee his burnished Carriage
Drove boldly to a Rose --
Combinedly alighting --
Himself -- his Carriage was --
The Rose received his visit
With frank tranquillity
Withholding not a Crescent
To his Cupidity --
Their Moment consummated --
Remained for him -- to flee --
Remained for her -- of rapture
But the humility.


by Rabindranath Tagore

Lovers Gifts IV: She Is Near to My Heart

 She is near to my heart as the meadow-flower to the earth; she is
sweet to me as sleep is to tired limbs. My love for her is my life
flowing in its fullness, like a river in autumn flood, running with
serene abandonment. My songs are one with my love, like the murmur
of a stream, that sings with all its waves and current.


by Emily Dickinson

Whatever it is -- she has tried it --

 Whatever it is -- she has tried it --
Awful Father of Love --
Is not Ours the chastising --
Do not chastise the Dove --

Not for Ourselves, petition --
Nothing is left to pray --
When a subject is finished --
Words are handed away --

Only lest she be lonely
In thy beautiful House
Give her for her Transgression
License to think of us --


by Sir Thomas Wyatt

With Serving Still

 With serving still 
This I have won, 
For my goodwill 
To be undone.

And for redress 
Of all my pain, 
Disdainfulness 
I have again.

And for reward 
Of all my smart, 
Lo, thus unheard, 
I must depart.

Wherefore all ye 
That after shall 
By fortune be, 
As I am, thrall,

Example take 
What I have won, 
Thus for her sake 
To be undone.


by Ellis Parker Butler

Ridden Down

 When I taught Ida how to ride a
 Bicycle that night,
I ran beside her, just to guide her
 Erring wheel aright;
And many times there in the street
She rode upon my weary feet.

But now can Ida mount and ride a
 Wheel with graceful ease,
And I, untiring in admiring,
 Fall upon my knees
To worship her,—and, for her part,
She rides upon my proffered heart!


by Carl Sandburg

Baby Face

 WHITE MOON comes in on a baby face.
The shafts across her bed are flimmering.

Out on the land White Moon shines,
Shines and glimmers against gnarled shadows,
All silver to slow twisted shadows
Falling across the long road that runs from the house.

Keep a little of your beauty
And some of your flimmering silver
For her by the window to-night
Where you come in, White Moon.


by George William Russell

The Pain of Earth

 DOES the earth grow grey with grief
For her hero darling fled?
Though her vales let fall no leaf,
In our hearts her tears are shed.


Still the stars laugh on above:
Not to them her grief is said;
Mourning for her hero love
In our hearts the tears are shed.


We her children mourn for him,
Mourn the elder hero dead;
In the twilight grey and dim
In our hearts the tears are shed.


by William Browne

Song

 FOR her gait, if she be walking;
Be she sitting, I desire her
For her state's sake; and admire her
For her wit if she be talking;
Gait and state and wit approve her;
For which all and each I love her.

Be she sullen, I commend her
For a modest. Be she merry,
For a kind one her prefer I.
Briefly, everything doth lend her
So much grace, and so approve her,
That for everything I love her.


by Hilda Doolittle

From Citron-Bower

 From citron-bower be her bed, 
cut from branch of tree a-flower, 
fashioned for her maidenhead.

From Lydian apples, sweet of hue, 
cut the width of board and lathe, 
carve the feet from myrtle-wood.

Let the palings of her bed 
be quince and box-wood overlaid 
with the scented bark of yew.

That all the wood in blossoming, 
may calm her heart and cool her blood, 
for losing of her maidenhood.


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