Famous Able Poems by Famous Poets

These are examples of famous Able poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous able poems. These examples illustrate what a famous able poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).

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For a Naughty Little Girl

by Ann Taylor
 My sweet little girl should be cheerful and mild
She must not be fretful and cry! 
Oh! why is this passion? remember, my child, 
GOD sees you, who lives in the sky. 

That dear little face, that I like so to kiss, 
How alter'd and sad it appears!
Do you think I can love you so naughty as this, 
Or kiss...Read more of this...

Gregory Corso

by Gregory Corso
 Budger of history Brake of time You Bomb
 Toy of universe Grandest of all snatched sky I cannot hate you
 Do I hate the mischievous thunderbolt the jawbone of an ass
 The bumpy club of One Million B.C. the mace the flail the axe
 Catapult Da Vinci tomahawk Cochise flintlock Kidd dagger Rathbone
 Ah and the sad desparate gun...Read more of this...

A Few Rules for Beginners

by Katherine Mansfield
 Babies must not eat the coal
And they must not make grimaces,
Nor in party dresses roll
And must never black their faces.

They must learn that pointing's rude,
They must sit quite still at table,
And must always eat the food
Put before them--if they're able.

If they fall, they must not cry,
Though it's known how painful this is;
No--there's always Mother by
Who will comfort them with...Read more of this...

Knowledge

by Dejan Stojanovic
If we had true insight 
We would be scared to death, 
We would not be able to see anything, 
We would see everything and see nothing. 

Senses empower limitations, 
Senses expand vision within borders, 
Senses promote understanding through pleasure. 
Without pleasure there is no sight or measure. 

Total knowledge is annihilation 
Of the desire to see, to touch, to feel...Read more of this...

New England Magazine

by Ellis Parker Butler
 Upon Bottle Miche the autre day
While yet the nuit was early,
Je met a homme whose barbe was grey,
Whose cheveaux long and curly.

“Je am a poete, sir,” dit he,
“Je live where tres grande want teems—
I’m faim, sir. Sil vous plait give me
Un franc or cinquatite centimes.”

I donne him vingt big copper sous
But dit, “You moderne rhymers
The sacre poet name abuse—
Les...Read more of this...

Lord Walters Wife

by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
 I

'But where do you go?' said the lady, while both sat under the yew,
And her eyes were alive in their depth, as the kraken beneath the sea-blue.

II

'Because I fear you,' he answered;--'because you are far too fair,
And able to strangle my soul in a mesh of your golfd-coloured hair.'

III

'Oh that,' she said, 'is no reason! Such knots are quickly...Read more of this...

300. Scots Prologue for Mr. Sutherland

by Robert Burns
 WHAT needs this din about the town o’ Lon’on,
How this new play an’ that new sang is comin?
Why is outlandish stuff sae meikle courted?
Does nonsense mend, like brandy, when imported?
Is there nae poet, burning keen for fame,
Will try to gie us sangs and plays at hame?
For Comedy abroad he need to toil,
A fool and knave are plants of every...Read more of this...

The Disabled Debauchee

by John Wilmot
 As some brave admiral, in former war,
Deprived of force, but pressed with courage still,
Two rival fleets appearing from afar,
Crawls to the top of an adjacent hill;

From whence (with thoughts full of concern) he views
The wise and daring conduct of the fight,
And each bold action to his mind renews
His present glory, and his past delight;

From his fierce eyes, flashes of...Read more of this...

Tom

by Robert William Service
 That Tom was poor was sure a pity,
 Such guts for learning had the lad;
He took to Greek like babe to titty,
 And he was mathematic mad.
I loved to prime him up with knowledge,
 A brighter lad I never knew;
I dreamed that he would go to college
 And there be honoured too.

But no! His Dad said, "Son, I need...Read more of this...

A Hedge Of Rubber Trees

by Amy Clampitt
 The West Village by then was changing; before long
the rundown brownstones at its farthest edge
would have slipped into trendier hands. She lived,
impervious to trends, behind a potted hedge of
rubber trees, with three cats, a canary—refuse 
from whose cage kept sifting down and then 
germinating, a yearning seedling choir, around
the saucers on the windowsill—and an inexorable
cohort of roaches she was...Read more of this...

Jim

by Hilaire Belloc
 Who ran away from his Nurse and was eaten by a Lion

There was a Boy whose name was Jim;
His Friends were very good to him.
They gave him Tea, and Cakes, and Jam,
And slices of delicious Ham,
And Chocolate with pink inside
And little Tricycles to ride,
And read him Stories through and through,
And even took him to the Zoo--
But there it was...Read more of this...

Celestial Music

by John Donne
 I have a friend who still believes in heaven.
Not a stupid person, yet with all she knows, she literally talks to God.
She thinks someone listens in heaven.
On earth she's unusually competent.
Brave too, able to face unpleasantness.

We found a caterpillar dying in the dirt, greedy ants crawling over it.
I'm always moved by disaster, always eager to oppose vitality
But timid also,...Read more of this...

Alas! my heart has not been able to find any remedy

by Omar Khayyam
Alas! my heart has not been able to find any remedy
[for its grief], my soul has arrived at the edge of my
lips [death], without having attained the object of its love.
Alas! my life has passed in ignorance, and the enigma
of this love has not been explained.
315...Read more of this...

The Child and the Mariner

by William Henry Davies
 A dear old couple my grandparents were, 
And kind to all dumb things; they saw in Heaven 
The lamb that Jesus petted when a child; 
Their faith was never draped by Doubt: to them 
Death was a rainbow in Eternity, 
That promised everlasting brightness soon. 
An old seafaring man was he; a rough 
Old man, but kind; and hairy,...Read more of this...

The Battle of Atbara

by William Topaz McGonagall
 Ye Sons of Great Britain, pray list to me,
And I'll tell ye of a great victory.
Where the British defeated the Dervishes, without delay,
At the Battle of Atbara, without dismay. 

The attack took place, 'twas on the 8th of April, in the early morning dawn,
And the British behaved manfully to a man;
And Mahmud's front was raked fearfully, before the assault...Read more of this...

Carol of Words

by Walt Whitman
 1
EARTH, round, rolling, compact—suns, moons, animals—all these are words to be
 said; 
Watery, vegetable, sauroid advances—beings, premonitions, lispings of the future, 
Behold! these are vast words to be said. 

Were you thinking that those were the words—those upright lines? those curves,
 angles,
 dots? 
No, those are not the words—the substantial words are in the ground and sea,
They are in...Read more of this...

Be attentive, friend, and while thou still art able, lighten

by Omar Khayyam
Be attentive, friend, and while thou still art able, lighten
the grief of a loving heart, for this kingdom of grace
that now thou hast will not last always, but, like so many
others thou shalt unexpectedly be called....Read more of this...

Canzone XXI

by Francesco Petrarch
CANZONE XXI. I' vo pensando, e nel pensier m' assale. SELF-CONFLICT.  Ceaseless I think, and in each wasting thoughtSo strong a pity for myself appears,[Pg 227]That often it has broughtMy harass'd heart to new yet natural tears;Seeing each day my end of life draw nigh,Instant in prayer,...Read more of this...

Hans Sachs Poetical Mission

by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
 [I feel considerable hesitation in venturing 
to offer this version of a poem which Carlyle describes to be 'a 
beautiful piece (a very Hans Sacks beatified, both in character 
and style), which we wish there was any possibility of translating.' 
The reader will be aware that Hans Sachs was the celebrated Minstrel- 
Cobbler of Nuremberg, who Wrote 208 plays,...Read more of this...

the room

by Rg Gregory
 you know how it is with the room
the door is frequently locked

as i pass a white sigh
is pushed out from under
as i bend to retrieve it
the wood quivers with a woman's breath
there is a ruffle of crying

through the keyhole i am able
to glimpse a red dress
clawing fingers
then an eye seems to be clambering
towards me over the hard lock

all the...Read more of this...

Sound Of Sleat

by Jackie Kay
 I always looked out at the world,
And wondered if the world looked back at me,
Standing on the edge of something,
On my face- the wind from the cold sea.


Across the waters were mirrors to see
Faces that looked like me,
People caught between two places,
People crossing over the seas.


And it seemed from my croft
-With the old stones and the sheep,
And the sound...Read more of this...

Since no one has ever been able to answer thee from

by Omar Khayyam
Since no one has ever been able to answer thee from
one day to the next, hasten to glad thy heart filled with
sadness. Drink, O adorable Moon! drink from thy silver
cup, for long shalt thou turn in the firmament without
finding us here again.
281...Read more of this...

Artificer

by Czeslaw Milosz
 Burning, he walks in the stream of flickering letters, clarinets,
machines throbbing quicker than the heart, lopped-off heads, silk
canvases, and he stops under the sky

and raises toward it his joined clenched fists.

Believers fall on their bellies, they suppose it is a monstrance that
shines,

but those are knuckles, sharp knuckles shine that way, my friends.

He cuts the glowing, yellow buildings in two,...Read more of this...

Sonnet 85: My tongue-tied Muse in manners holds her still

by William Shakespeare
 My tongue-tied Muse in manners holds her still,
While comments of your praise, richly compiled,
Reserve their character with golden quill,
And precious phrase by all the Muses filed.
I think good thoughts, whilst other write good words,
And like unlettered clerk still cry "Amen"
To every hymn that able spirit affords
In polished form of well-refinèd pen.
Hearing you praised, I say "'Tis so, 'tis true,"
And...Read more of this...

An Autograph

by John Greenleaf Whittier
 I write my name as one, 
On sands by waves o'errun 
Or winter's frosted pane, 
Traces a record vain. 

Oblivion's blankness claims 
Wiser and better names, 
And well my own may pass 
As from the strand or glass. 

Wash on, O waves of time! 
Melt, noons, the frosty rime! 
Welcome the shadow vast, 
The silence that shall last! 

When...Read more of this...

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