Famous Aim Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Two Tramps In Mud Time

by Robert Frost
 Out of the mud two strangers came
And caught me splitting wood in the yard,
And one of them put me off my aim
By hailing cheerily "Hit them hard!"
I knew pretty well why he had dropped behind
And let the other go on a way.
I knew pretty well what he had in mind:
He wanted to take my job for pay.

Good blocks of...Read more of this...

You Asked How (formerly Even Now She Is Turning Saying Everything I Always Wanted Her to Say)

by Nick Flynn
 At the end there were straws
in her glove compartment, I'd split them open
to taste the familiar bitter residue, near the end
I ate all her Percodans, hungry to know
how far they could take me.
A bottle of red wine each night moved her along
as she wrote, I feel too much, again and again. 

You asked how and I said, Suicide, and...Read more of this...

The Ballad Of Touch-The-Button Nell

by Robert William Service
 Beyond the Rocking Bridge it lies, the burg of evil fame,
The huts where hive and swarm and thrive the sisterhood of shame.
Through all the night each cabin light goes out and then goes in,
A blood-red heliograph of lust, a semaphore of sin.
From Dawson Town, soft skulking down, each lewdster seeks his mate;
And glad and bad, kimono clad, the wanton...Read more of this...

The Distant Winter

by Philip Levine
 from an officer's diary during the last war

I 

The sour daylight cracks through my sleep-caked lids. 
"Stephan! Stephan!" The rattling orderly 
Comes on a trot, the cold tray in his hands: 
Toast whitening with oleo, brown tea, 

Yesterday's napkins, and an opened letter. 
"Your asthma's bad, old man." He doesn't answer, 
And turns to the grey windows and the...Read more of this...

Botany Bay Eclogues 03 - Humphrey And William

by Robert Southey
 (Time, Noon.)


HUMPHREY:

See'st thou not William that the scorching Sun
By this time half his daily race has run?
The savage thrusts his light canoe to shore
And hurries homeward with his fishy store.
Suppose we leave awhile this stubborn soil
To eat our dinner and to rest from toil!


WILLIAM:

Agreed. Yon tree whose purple gum bestows
A ready medicine for the sick-man's woes,
Forms with its shadowy...Read more of this...

Striving

by Robert William Service
 Striving is life, yet life is striving;
I fight to live, yet live to fight;
The vital urge is in my driving,
Yet I must drive with all my might:
Each day a battle, and the fray
Stoutly renewed the coming day.

A am myself - yet when I strive
I build a self that's truer, higher;
I keep my bit of God alive
And forgive me in...Read more of this...

It is we who are the true aim of universal creation; it

by Omar Khayyam
It is we who are the true aim of universal creation; it
is we who, in the eyes of wisdom, are the essence of divine
regard. The circle of this world is like a ring and,
without doubt, we are the jeweled signet of it.
355...Read more of this...

I flew here, as a bird from the wild, in aim

by Omar Khayyam
I flew here, as a bird from the wild, in aim
Up to a higher nest my course to frame,
But, finding here no guide who knows the way,
Fly out by the same door where through I came....Read more of this...

London Bridge

by Edwin Arlington Robinson
 “Do I hear them? Yes, I hear the children singing—and what of it? 
Have you come with eyes afire to find me now and ask me that? 
If I were not their father and if you were not their mother, 
We might believe they made a noise…. What are you—driving at!” 

“Well, be glad that you can hear them,...Read more of this...

The Aim was Song

by Robert Frost
 Before man came to blow it right
The wind once blew itself untaught,
And did its loudest day and night
In any rough place where it caught.

Man came to tell it what was wrong:
I hadn't found the place to blow;
It blew too hard--the aim was song.
And listen--how it ought to go!

He took a little in his mouth,
And held it long enough for...Read more of this...

Baseball and Writing

by Marianne Moore
 Fanaticism?No.Writing is exciting
and baseball is like writing.
You can never tell with either
how it will go
or what you will do;
generating excitement--
a fever in the victim--
pitcher, catcher, fielder, batter.
Victim in what category?
Owlman watching from the press box?
To whom does it apply?
Who is excited?Might it be I?

It's a pitcher's battle all the way--a duel--
a catcher's, as, with cruel
puma paw, Elston Howard lumbers...Read more of this...

An Answer

by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
 If all the year was summer-time,
And all the aim of life
Was just to lilt on like a rhyme –
Then I would be your wife.

If all the days were August days,
And crowned with golden weather,
How happy then through green-clad ways
We two could stray together!

If all the nights were moonlit nights,
And we had naught to do
But just to sit and plan...Read more of this...

83. The Cotter's Saturday Night

by Robert Burns
 MY lov’d, my honour’d, much respected friend!
 No mercenary bard his homage pays;
With honest pride, I scorn each selfish end,
 My dearest meed, a friend’s esteem and praise:
 To you I sing, in simple Scottish lays,
The lowly train in life’s sequester’d scene,
 The native feelings strong, the guileless ways,
What Aiken in a cottage would have been;
Ah! tho’ his worth...Read more of this...

Grand-Pas Whim

by Robert William Service
 While for me gapes the greedy grave
 It don't make sense
That I should have a crazy crave
 To paint our fence.
Yet that is what I aim to do,
 Though dim my sight:
Jest paint them aged pickets blue,
 Or green or white.

Jest squat serenely in the sun
 Wi' brush an' paint,
An' gay them pickets one by one,
 --A chore! It...Read more of this...

The Twenty Hoss-Power Shay

by Ellis Parker Butler
 You have heard of the wonderful one-hoss shay
That was built in such a logical way
It ran a hundred years to a day.
And then, of a sudden, it up and bust,
And all that was left was a mound of dust?
Holmes—O. W.—told it well
In a rhyme of his—what there was to tell—
But the one-hoss shay wasn’t “one, two, three”
With a vehicle...Read more of this...

We are assured that there is a Paradise for us peopled

by Omar Khayyam
We are assured that there is a Paradise for us peopled
with houris, and that we shall find there limpid wine and
honey. It must then be permitted us to love women and
wine here below, for is not this our end and aim?
321...Read more of this...

Abt Vogler

by Robert Browning
 Would that the structure brave, the manifold music I build,
Bidding my organ obey, calling its keys to their work,
Claiming each slave of the sound, at a touch, as when Solomon willed
Armies of angels that soar, legions of demons that lurk,
Man, brute, reptile, fly,--alien of end and of aim,
Adverse, each from the other heaven-high, hell-deep removed,--
Should rush into sight at...Read more of this...

Sonnet XXIII: The Curious Wits

by Sir Philip Sidney
 The curious wits seeing dull pensiveness 
Bewray itself in my long settled eyes, 
Whence those same fumes of melancholy rise, 
With idle pains, and missing aim, do guess. 

Some that know how my spring I did address, 
Deem that my Muse some fruit of knowledge plies: 
Others, because the Prince my service tries, 
Think that I think state errors...Read more of this...

t of the Fifth Scene in the Second Act of Athalia

by Anne Kingsmill Finch
 Enter, as in the Temple of Jerusalem,
ATHALIA, MATHAN, ABNER

[Mathan]
WHY, to our Wonder, in this Place is seen, 
Thus discompos'd, and alter'd, Juda's Queen? 
May we demand, what Terrors seize your Breast, 
Or, why your Steps are to this House addrest, 
Where your unguarded Person stands expos'd 
To secret Foes, within its Walls inclos'd? 
Can it be thought that you...Read more of this...

The Captain of the Push

by Henry Lawson
 As the night was falling slowly down on city, town and bush, 
From a slum in Jones's Alley sloped the Captain of the Push; 
And he scowled towards the North, and he scowled towards the South, 
As he hooked his little finger in the corners of his mouth. 
Then his whistle, loud and shrill, woke the echoes of the...Read more of this...

Class-Mates

by Robert William Service
 Bob Briggs went in for Government,
 And helps to run the State;
Some day they say he'll represent
 His party in debate:
But with punk politics his job,
 I do not envy Bob.

Jim Jones went in for writing books,
 Best sellers were his aim;
He's ten years younger than he looks,
 And licks the heels of Fame:
Though shop-girls make a fuss of...Read more of this...

Over The Parapet

by Robert William Service
 All day long when the shells sail over
 I stand at the sandbags and take my chance;
But at night, at night I'm a reckless rover,
 And over the parapet gleams Romance.
Romance! Romance! How I've dreamed it, writing
 Dreary old records of money and mart,
Me with my head chuckful of fighting
 And the blood of vikings to thrill my heart.

But...Read more of this...

Leave Me My Blamer XIII

by Kahlil Gibran
 Leave me, my blamer, 
For the sake of the love 
Which unites your soul with 
That of your beloved one; 
For the sake of that which 
Joins spirit with mothers 
Affection, and ties your 
Heart with filial love. Go, 
And leave me to my own 
Weeping heart. 


Let me sail in the ocean of 
My dreams; Wait until Tomorrow...Read more of this...

Marksman Sam

by Marriott Edgar
 When Sam Small joined the regiment,
'E were no' but a raw recruit,
And they marched 'im away one wint'ry day,
'Is musket course to shoot.

They woke 'im up at the crack o' dawn,
Wi' many a nudge and shake,
'E were dreaming that t' Sergeant 'ad broke 'is neck,
And 'e didn't want to wake.

Lieutenant Bird came on parade,
And chided the lads for mooning,
'E...Read more of this...

Frances

by Charlotte Bronte
 SHE will not sleep, for fear of dreams, 
But, rising, quits her restless bed, 
And walks where some beclouded beams 
Of moonlight through the hall are shed.

Obedient to the goad of grief, 
Her steps, now fast, now lingering slow, 
In varying motion seek relief 
From the Eumenides of woe.

Wringing her hands, at intervals­ 
But long as mute as phantom...Read more of this...

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