Get Your Premium Membership

Famous Andrew Poems by Famous Poets

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

See also:

by Burns, Robert
...ce determine;
Perhaps it may turn out a sang:
 Perhaps turn out a sermon.


Ye’ll try the world soon, my lad;
 And, Andrew dear, believe me,
Ye’ll find mankind an unco squad,
 And muckle they may grieve ye:
For care and trouble set your thought,
 Ev’n when your end’s attained;
And a’ your views may come to nought,
 Where ev’ry nerve is strained.


I’ll no say, men are villains a’;
 The real, harden’d wicked,
Wha hae nae check but human law,
 Are to a few restricked;
B...Read More



by Burns, Robert
...bonie mou’,
 Fu’ cozie in the neuk for’t,
 Unseen that night.


But Merran sat behint their backs,
 Her thoughts on Andrew Bell:
She lea’es them gashin at their cracks,
 An’ slips out-by hersel’;
She thro’ the yard the nearest taks,
 An’ for the kiln she goes then,
An’ darklins grapit for the bauks,
 And in the blue-clue 9 throws then,
 Right fear’t that night.


An’ ay she win’t, an’ ay she swat—
 I wat she made nae jaukin;
Till something held within the pat,
 Good L...Read More

by Paterson, Andrew Barton
...The railway rattled and roared and swung 
With jolting and bumping trucks. 
The sun, like a billiard red ball, hung 
In the Western sky: and the tireless tongue 
Of the wild-eyed man in the corner told 
This terrible tale of the days of old, 
And the party that ought to have kept the ducks. 
"Well, it ain't all joy bein' on the land 
With an overdr...Read More

by Marvell, Andrew
...Soul
O Who shall, from this Dungeon, raise
A Soul inslav'd so many wayes?
With bolts of Bones, that fetter'd stands
In Feet ; and manacled in Hands.
Here blinded with an Eye ; and there
Deaf with the drumming of an Ear.
A Soul hung up, as 'twere, in Chains
Of Nerves, and Arteries, and Veins.
Tortur'd, besides each other part,1
In a vain Head, a...Read More

by Paterson, Andrew Barton
...Bring me a quart of colonial beer 
And some doughy damper to make good cheer, 
I must make a heavy dinner; 
Heavily dine and heavily sup, 
Of indigestible things fill up, 
Next month they run the Melbourne Cup, 
And I have to dream the winner. 
Stoke it in, boys! the half-cooked ham, 
The rich ragout and the charming cham., 
I've got to mix my liqu...Read More



by Estep, Maggie
...ly
a theme close to my heart since I seem to use the phrase in novels and
CDs alike. My friend and mentor of sorts, Andrew Vachss, upon hearing me
read a rendition of this poem, stated that it ought to be the theme song
for borderline personality disorder. He's right.


I'm an Emotional Idiot
so get away from me.
I mean, 
COME HERE. 

Wait, no,
that's too close, 
give me some space
it's a big country, 
there's plenty of room, 
don't sit so close to me....Read More

by Marvell, Andrew
...Like the vain curlings of the watery maze, 
Which in smooth streams a sinking weight does raise, 
So Man, declining always, disappears 
In the weak circles of increasing years; 
And his short tumults of themselves compose, 
While flowing Time above his head does close. 

Cromwell alone with greater vigour runs, 
(Sun-like) the stages of succeeding suns...Read More

by Sexton, Anne
...ice. 
What a jello she could make with it, 
the fives, the tens, the twenties, 
all in a goo to feed the baby. 
Andrew Jackson as an hors d'oeuvre, 
la de dah. 
I wish I were the U.S. Mint, 
turning it all out, 
turtle green 
and monk black. 
Who's that at the podium 
in black and white, 
blurting into the mike? 
Ms. Dog. 
Is she spilling her guts? 
You bet. 
Otherwise they cough... 
The day is slipping away, why am I 
out here,...Read More

by Tebb, Barry
...ns on a page,

Vertical words and snips of scores just make me rage.

Is Thom Gunn really the age-old sleaze-weasel Andrew Duncan says?

Is Tim Allen right to give Geraldine Monk an eleven page review?

At least they care for poetry to give their lives to it

As we do, too.

My syntax far from perfect, my writing illegible

But somehow I’ll get through, Bloodaxe and Carcourt 

May jeer but an Indian printer’s busy with my ‘Collected’

And, Calcutta typesetters permitt...Read More

by Marvell, Andrew
...After two sittings, now our Lady State 
To end her picture does the third time wait. 
But ere thou fall'st to work, first, Painter, see 
If't ben't too slight grown or too hard for thee. 
Canst thou paint without colors? Then 'tis right: 
For so we too without a fleet can fight. 
Or canst thou daub a signpost, and that ill? 
'Twill suit our gre...Read More

by Paterson, Andrew Barton
...In this war we're always moving, 
Moving on; 
When we make a friend another friend has gone; 
Should a woman's kindly face 
Make us welcome for a space, 
Then it's boot and saddle, boys, we're 
Moving on. 
In the hospitals they're moving, 
Moving on; 
They're here today, tomorrow they are gone; 
When the bravest and the best 
Of the boys you know "go w...Read More

by Paterson, Andrew Barton
...Awake, of Muse, the echoes of a day 
Long past, the ghosts of mem'ries manifold -- 
Youth's memories that once were green and gold 
But now, alas, are grim and ashen grey. 
The drowsy schoolboy wakened up from sleep, 
First stays his system with substantial food, 
Then off for school with tasks half understood, 
Alas, alas, that cribs should be so chea...Read More

by Paterson, Andrew Barton
..."HALT! Who goes there?” The sentry’s call 
Rose on the midnight air 
Above the noises of the camp, 
The roll of wheels, the horses’ tramp. 
The challenge echoed over all— 
“Halt! Who goes there?” 
A quaint old figure clothed in white, 
He bore a staff of pine, 
An ivy-wreath was on his head. 
“Advance, oh friend,” the sentry said, 
“Advance, for th...Read More

by Paterson, Andrew Barton
...'Tis strange that in a land so strong 
So strong and bold in mighty youth, 
We have no poet's voice of truth 
To sing for us a wondrous song. 
Our chiefest singer yet has sung 
In wild, sweet notes a passing strain, 
All carelessly and sadly flung 
To that dull world he thought so vain. 

"I care for nothing, good nor bad, 
My hopes are gone, my pl...Read More

by Marvell, Andrew
...Clora, come view my soul, and tell
Whether I have contrived it well.
Now all its several lodgings lie
Composed into one gallery;
And the great arras-hangings, made
Of various faces, by are laid;
That, for all furniture, you'll find
Only your picture in my mind.

Here thou art painted in the dress
Of an inhuman murderess;
Examining upon ou...Read More

by Lowell, Amy
...ows
And the indistinct shadows of leaves.
Tap! Tap!
Upholsterer Darling has a fine shop in Jamestown.
Tap! Tap!
Andrew Darling has ridden hard from Longwood to see to the work 
in his shop
in Jamestown.
He has a corps of men in it, toiling and swearing,
Knocking, and measuring, and planing, and squaring,
Working from a chart with figures,
Comparing with their rules,
Setting this and that part together with their tools.
Tap! Tap! Tap!
Haste indeed!
So great is ...Read More

by Paterson, Andrew Barton
...We have all of us read how the Israelites fled 
From Egypt with Pharaoh in eager pursuit of 'em, 
And Pharaoh's fierce troop were all put "in the soup" 
When the waters rolled softly o'er every galoot of 'em. 
The Jews were so glad when old Pharaoh was "had" 
That they sounded their timbrels and capered like mad. 
You see he was hated from Jordan t...Read More

by Walcott, Derek
...es 
of Mission School pickaninnies, like rivers remembering 
their source, Parish Trelawny, Parish St David, Parish 
St Andrew, the names afflicting the pastures, 
the lime groves and fences of marl stone and the cattle 
with a docile longing, an epochal content. 
And there were, like old wedding lace in an attic, 
among the boas and parasols and the tea-colored 
daguerreotypes, hints of an epochal happiness 
as ordered and infinite to the child 
as the great house road t...Read More

by Marvell, Andrew
...Had we but world enough, and time,
This coyness, lady, were no crime.
We would sit down, and think which way
To walk, and pass our long love's day.
Thou by the Indian Ganges' side
Shouldst rubies find; I by the tide
Of Humber would complain.  I would
Love you ten years before the Flood,
And you should, if you please, refuse
Till the c...Read More

by Brautigan, Richard
...

 Imagine Pittsburgh.

 A steel that comes from trout, used to make buildings,

 trains and tunnels.

 The Andrew Carnegie of Trout!



The Reply of Trout Fishing in America:

 I remember with particular amusement, people with three-

cornered hats fishing in the dawn.








 KNOCK ON WOOD (PART TWO)
 One spring afternoon as a child in the strange town of Portland,

 I walked down to a different street corner, and saw a row of old houses,

 huddled together...Read More

Dont forget to view our wonderful member Andrew poems.