Famous Although Poems by Famous Poets
These are examples of famous Although poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous although poems. These examples illustrate what a famous although poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).
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by
Omar Khayyam
Although it may be through duty that I present myself
at the mosque, it certainly is not for the purpose of
making a prayer. One day I stole a sedjaddeh [prayer-rug].
The sedjaddeh is worn out; I have returned
again, and still again....Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
O Khayyam! although the Wheel of the Heavens has,
in setting up his tent, closed the door to discussions, [it
is evident, nevertheless,] that the cupbearer of eternity
[God] has produced, in the form of globules of wine in
the cup of creation, a thousand other Khayyams like
thee....Read more of this...
by
William Butler Yeats
Epilogue to "A Vision'
MIDNIGHT has come, and the great Christ Church Bell
And may a lesser bell sound through the room;
And it is All Souls' Night,
And two long glasses brimmed with muscatel
Bubble upon the table. A ghost may come;
For it is a ghost's right,
His element is so fine
Being sharpened by his death,
To drink from the wine-breath
While our gross palates drink...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
Although I put away his life --
An Ornament too grand
For Forehead low as mine, to wear,
This might have been the Hand
That sowed the flower, he preferred --
Or smoothed a homely pain,
Or pushed the pebble from his path --
Or played his chosen tune --
On Lute the least -- the latest --
But just his Ear could know
That whatsoe'er delighted it,
I never...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
Although the creeds number some seventy-three,
I hold with none but that of loving Thee;
What matter faith, unfaith, obedience, sin?
Thou'rt all we need, the rest is vanity....Read more of this...
by
William Strode
Dawson the Butler's dead: Although I think
Poets were ne'er infusde with single drinke
Ile spend a farthing muse; some watry verse
Will serve the turne to cast upon his hearse;
If any cannot weepe amongst us here
Take off his pott, and so squeeze out a tear:
Weepe, O his cheeses, weepe till yee bee good,
Yee that are dry or in the sun have...Read more of this...
by
Robert William Service
Said he: "You saw the Master clear;
By Rushy Pond alone he sat,
Serene and silent as a seer,
in tweedy coat and seedy hat.
you tell me you did not intrude,
(Although his book was in your hand,)
Upon his melancholy mood . . .
I do not understand.
"You did not tell him: 'I have come
From o'er the sea to speak to you.'
You did...Read more of this...
by
Emile Verhaeren
Although autumn this evening along the paths and the woods' edges lets the leaves fall slowly like gilded hands;
Although autumn this evening with its arms of wind harvests the petals and their pallor of the earnest rose-trees;
We shall let nothing of our two souls fall suddenly with these flowers.
But before the flames of the golden hearth of memory, we will...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
Although on my necklace of duty I have never strung
the pearl of submission, as is Thy due, although never
in my heart have I swept the dust from Thy steps, I
have never despaired reaching the sill of Thy throne of
pity, for never have I importuned Thee with my troubles....Read more of this...
by
Emile Verhaeren
Although we saw this bright garden, wherein we pass silently, flower before our eyes, it is rather in us that grows the pleasantest and fairest garden in the world.
For we live all the flowers, all the plants and all the grasses in our laughter and our tears of pure and calm happiness.
For we live all the transparencies of the blue...Read more of this...
by
Lewis Carroll
As one who strives a hill to climb,
Who never climbed before:
Who finds it, in a little time,
Grow every moment less sublime,
And votes the thing a bore:
Yet, having once begun to try,
Dares not desert his quest,
But, climbing, ever keeps his eye
On one small hut against the sky
Wherein he hopes to rest:
Who climbs till nerve and force are spent,
With...Read more of this...
by
Paul Laurence Dunbar
This is to-day, a golden summer's day
And yet—and yet
My vengeful soul will not forget
The past, forever now forgot, you say.
From that half height where I had sadly climbed,
I stretched my hand,
I lone in all that land,
Down there, where, helpless, you were limed.
Our fingers clasped, and dragging me a pace,
You struggled up.
It is a bitter Cup,
That now for naught, you turn...Read more of this...
by
Charles Bukowski
he came to the door one night wet thin beaten and
terrorized
a white cross-eyed tailless cat
I took him in and fed him and he stayed
grew to trust me until a friend drove up the driveway
and ran him over
I took what was left to a vet who said,"not much
chance...give him these pills...his backbone
is crushed, but is was crushed before and...Read more of this...
by
G K Chesterton
Feast on wine or fast on water
And your honour shall stand sure,
God Almighty's son and daughter
He the valiant, she the pure;
If an angel out of heaven
Brings you other things to drink,
Thank him for his kind attentions,
Go and pour them down the sink.
Tea is like the East he grows in,
A great...Read more of this...
by
Robert William Service
A Frenchman and an Englishman
Resolved to fight a duel,
And hit upon a savage plan,
Because their hate was cruel.
They each would fire a single shot
In room of darkness pitchy,
And who was killed and who was not
Would hang on fingers twitchy.
The room was bare and dark as death,
And each ferocious fighter
Could hear his fierce opponent's breath
And clutched his pistol tighter.
The Gaston...Read more of this...
by
Katherine Mansfield
I wish I had not got a cold,
The wind is big and wild,
I wish that I was very old,
Not just a little child.
Somehow the day is very long
Just keeping here, alone;
I do not like the big wind's song,
He's growling for a bone
He's like an awful dog we had
Who used to creep around
And snatch at things--he was so bad,
With just...Read more of this...
by
Robert Browning
An imaginary composer.]
I.
Hist, but a word, fair and soft!
Forth and be judged, Master Hugues!
Answer the question I've put you so oft:
What do you mean by your mountainous fugues?
See, we're alone in the loft,---
II.
I, the poor organist here,
Hugues, the composer of note,
Dead though, and done with, this many a year:
Let's have a colloquy, something to quote,
Make the world prick up...Read more of this...
by
Robert William Service
Although my blood I've shed
In war's red wrath,
Oh how I darkly dread
Its aftermath!
Oh how I fear the day
Of my release,
When I must face the fray
Of phoney peace!
When I must fend again
In labour strife;
And toil with sweat and strain
For kids and wife.
The world is so upset
I battled for,
That grimly I regret
The peace...Read more of this...
by
Philip Levine
We stand in the rain in a long line
waiting at Ford Highland Park. For work.
You know what work is--if you're
old enough to read this you know what
work is, although you may not do it.
Forget you. This is about waiting,
shifting from one foot to another.
Feeling the light rain falling like mist
into your hair, blurring your vision
until you think you see...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
Although wine be prohibited, drink it without ceasing,
drink it in the evening and in the morning, drink it to
the noise of songs and to the sound of the harp. When
you can, procure that which sparkles like the ruby, throw
a drop on the earth and drink all the rest....Read more of this...
by
Alfred Lord Tennyson
‘Te somnia nostra reducunt.’
OVID.
And ask ye why these sad tears stream?
Why these wan eyes are dim with weeping?
I had a dream–a lovely dream,
Of her that in the grave is sleeping.
I saw her as ’twas yesterday,
The bloom upon her cheek still glowing;
And round her play’d a golden ray,
And on her brows were gay flowers blowing.
With angel-hand she swept a lyre,
A...Read more of this...
by
Robert Louis Stevenson
ON now, although the year be done,
Now, although the love be dead,
Dead and gone;
Hear me, O loved and cherished one,
Give me still the hand that led,
Led me on....Read more of this...
by
Robert Louis Stevenson
These nuts, that I keep in the back of the nest,
Where all my tin soldiers are lying at rest,
Were gathered in Autumn by nursie and me
In a wood with a well by the side of the sea.
This whistle we made (and how clearly it sounds!)
By the side of a field at the end of...Read more of this...
by
Countee Cullen
What is Africa to me:
Copper sun or scarlet sea,
Jungle star or jungle track,
Strong bronzed men, or regal black
Women from whose loins I sprang
When the birds of Eden sang?
One three centuries removed
From the scenes his fathers loved,
Spicy grove, cinnamon tree,
What is Africa to me?
So I lie, who all day long
Want no sound except the song
Sung by wild barbaric birds
Goading massive...Read more of this...
by
Henry Van Dyke
I - STARLIGHT
With two bright eyes, my star, my love,
Thou lookest on the stars above:
Ah, would that I the heaven might be
With a million eyes to look on thee.
Plato.
II - ROSELEAF
A little while the rose,
And after that the thorn;
An hour of dewy morn,
And then the glamour goes.
Ah, love in...Read more of this...
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