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Famous Short Silver Poems. Short Silver Poetry by Famous Poets

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

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

by Emily Dickinson

As Everywhere of Silver

 As Everywhere of Silver
With Ropes of Sand
To keep it from effacing
The Track called Land.

by Emily Dickinson

The Robin for the Crumb

 The Robin for the Crumb
Returns no syllable
But long records the Lady's name
In Silver Chronicle.

by Emily Dickinson

How still the Bells in Steeples stand

 How still the Bells in Steeples stand
Till swollen with the Sky
They leap upon their silver Feet
In frantic Melody!

by Robert Herrick


 See'st thou that cloud as silver clear,
Plump, soft, and swelling every where?
'Tis Julia's bed, and she sleeps there.

by Amy Levy

In September

 The sky is silver-grey; the long
Slow waves caress the shore.
-- On such a day as this I have been glad, Who shall be glad no more.

by Edward Lear

T was a thimble


was a thimble,
Of silver so bright!
When placed on the finger,
It fitted so tight!


Nice little thimble!

by Edward Lear

U was a silver urn


was a silver urn,
Full of hot scalding water; Papa said, "If that Urn were mine,
I'd give it to my daughter!"

by Mother Goose

Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary


Mary, Mary, quite contrary,
  How does your garden grow?
Silver bells and cockle-shells,
  And pretty maids all of a row.

by Mother Goose

Cushy Cow

Cushy cow, bonny, let down thy milk,
And I will give thee a gown of silk;
A gown of silk and a silver tee,
If thou wilt let down thy milk to me.

by Edward Lear

There was a Young Lady of Bute

There was a Young Lady of Bute,
Who played on a silver-gilt flute;
She played several jigs to her Uncle's white Pigs:
That amusing Young Lady of Bute.

by Mother Goose


A swarm of bees in May
Is worth a load of hay;
A swarm of bees in June
Is worth a silver spoon;
A swarm of bees in July
Is not worth a fly.

by Wang Wei

A Song of an Autumn Night.

 Under the crescent moon a light autumn dew 
Has chilled the robe she will not change -- 
And she touches a silver lute all night, 
Afraid to go back to her empty room.

by Walter de la Mare


 Ever, ever
Stir and shiver
The reeds and rushes
By the river:
Ever, ever,
As if in dream,
The lone moon's silver
Sleeks the stream.
What old sorrow, What lost love, Moon, reeds, rushes, Dream you of?

by Emily Dickinson

Lightly stepped a yellow star

 Lightly stepped a yellow star
To its lofty place --
Loosed the Moon her silver hat
From her lustral Face --
All of Evening softly lit
As an Astral Hall --
Father, I observed to Heaven,
You are punctual.

by Mother Goose



Oh, my pretty cock, oh, my handsome cock,
  I pray you, do not crow before day,
And your comb shall be made of the very beaten gold,
  And your wings of the silver so gray.

by Emily Dickinson

A Planted Life -- diversified

 A Planted Life -- diversified
With Gold and Silver Pain
To prove the presence of the Ore
In Particles -- 'tis when

A Value struggle -- it exist --
A Power -- will proclaim
Although Annihilation pile
Whole Chaoses on Him --

by Walt Whitman

World Take Good Notice.

 WORLD, take good notice, silver stars fading, 
Milky hue ript, weft of white detaching, 
Coals thirty-eight, baleful and burning, 
Scarlet, significant, hands off warning, 
Now and henceforth flaunt from these shores.

by Emily Dickinson

Twice had Summer her fair Verdure

 Twice had Summer her fair Verdure
Proffered to the Plain --
Twice a Winter's silver Fracture
On the Rivers been --

Two full Autumns for the Squirrel
Bounteous prepared --
Nature, Had'st thou not a Berry
For thy wandering Bird?

by Robert Burns

420. Lines of John M’Murdo Esq.

 BLEST be M’Murdo to his latest day!
No envious cloud o’ercast his evening ray;
No wrinkle, furrow’d by the hand of care,
Nor ever sorrow add one silver hair!
O may no son the father’s honour stain,
Nor ever daughter give the mother pain!

by Emily Dickinson

It dropped so low -- in my Regard --

 It dropped so low -- in my Regard --
I heard it hit the Ground --
And go to pieces on the Stones
At bottom of my Mind --

Yet blamed the Fate that flung it -- less
Than I denounced Myself,
For entertaining Plated Wares
Upon my Silver Shelf --

by Emily Dickinson

The Bee is not afraid of me.

 The Bee is not afraid of me.
I know the Butterfly.
The pretty people in the Woods Receive me cordially -- The Brooks laugh louder when I come -- The Breezes madder play; Wherefore mine eye thy silver mists, Wherefore, Oh Summer's Day?

by Carl Sandburg

They Ask Each Other Where They Came From

 AM I the river your white birds fly over?
Are you the green valley my silver channels roam?
The two of us a bowl of blue sky day time and a bowl of red stars night time?
 Who picked you
 out of the first great whirl of nothings
 and threw you here?

by A E Housman

The Fairies Break Their Dances

 The fairies break their dances 
And leave the printed lawn, 
And up from India glances 
The silver sail of dawn.
The candles burn their sockets, The blinds let through the day, The young man feels his pockets And wonders what's to pay.

by Emily Dickinson

Dropped into the Ether Acre --

 Dropped into the Ether Acre --
Wearing the Sod Gown --
Bonnet of Everlasting Laces --
Brooch -- frozen on --

Horses of Blonde -- and Coach of Silver --
Baggage a strapped Pearl --
Journey of Down -- and Whip of Diamond --
Riding to meet the Earl --

by Emily Dickinson

She died at play

 She died at play,
Gambolled away
Her lease of spotted hours,
Then sank as gaily as a Turn
Upon a Couch of flowers.
Her ghost strolled softly o'er the hill Yesterday, and Today, Her vestments as the silver fleece -- Her countenance as spray.