Famous At Present Poems by Famous Poets
These are examples of famous At Present poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous at present poems. These examples illustrate what a famous at present poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).
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by
Omar Khayyam
Present a salutation on my account to Mostapha, and
afterward say to him with all the deference due: O
Lord Hachemite! why, in accordance with the law of the
Koran, is the sharp doug [whey] lawful, yet pure wine
prohibited?
358...Read more of this...
by
Robert Herrick
Praise, they that will, times past: I joy to see
Myself now live; this age best pleaseth me!...Read more of this...
by
Philip Larkin
This empty street, this sky to blandness scoured,
This air, a little indistinct with autumn
Like a reflection, constitute the present --
A time traditionally soured,
A time unrecommended by event.
But equally they make up something else:
This is the furthest future childhood saw
Between long houses, under travelling skies,
Heard in contending bells --
An air lambent with adult enterprise,
And on another day will be the...Read more of this...
by
Francesco Petrarch
SONNET XV. Piovonmi amare lagrime dal viso. HIS STATE WHEN LAURA IS PRESENT, AND WHEN SHE DEPARTS. Down my cheeks bitter tears incessant rain,And my heart struggles with convulsive sighs,When, Laura, upon you I turn my eyes,For whom the world's allurements I disdain,But when I see that gentle smile again,That...Read more of this...
by
Friedrich von Schiller
Was it always as now? This race I truly can't fathom.
Nothing is young but old age; youth, alas! only is old....Read more of this...
by
William Strode
What thing is that, nor felt nor seene
Till it bee given? a present for a Queene:
A fine conceite to give and take the like:
The giver yet is farther for to seeke;
The taker doth possesse nothing the more,
The giver hee hath nothing lesse in store:
And given once that nature hath it still,
You cannot keepe or leave it if you will:
The...Read more of this...
by
John Donne
What if this present were the world's last night?
Mark in my heart, O soul, where thou dost dwell,
The picture of Christ crucified, and tell
Whether that countenance can thee affright,
Tears in his eyes quench the amazing light,
Blood fills his frowns, which from his pierced head fell.
And can that tongue adjudge thee unto hell,
Which prayed forgiveness for his foes' fierce spite?
No,...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
Present a salutation on my part to Khayyam, and then
say to him: O Khayyam! you are an ignorant man. When
have I said that wine was prohibited? It is lawful for
intelligent men; it is prohibited only to the ignorant....Read more of this...
by
Kenn Nesbitt
I’m clever whenever
there’s no one around.
Alone, on my own,
I profess I’m profound.
In private, I’m Einstein.
Secluded, I’m smart.
My genius increases
the more I’m apart.
If you think I’m clueless,
it isn’t a trick.
When people are present
I’m dumb as a brick.
But don’t think I’m daft
or not mentally sound.
Whenever I’m clever
there’s no one around.
--Kenn Nesbitt
Copyright © Kenn Nesbitt 2012. All Rights Reserved...Read more of this...
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
Marianne Moore
If external action is effete
and rhyme is outmoded,
I shall revert to you,
Habakkuk, as when in a Bible class
the teacher was speaking of unrhymed verse.
He said - and I think I repeat his exact words -
"Hebrew poetry is prose
with a sort of heightened consciousness." Ecstasy affords
the occasion and expediency determines the form....Read more of this...
by
Rabindranath Tagore
Hands cling to hands and eyes linger
on eyes: thus begins the record of our
hearts.
It is the moonlit night of March;
the sweet smell of henna is in the air;
my flute lies on the earth neglected
and your garland of flowers is
unfinished.
This love between you and me is
simple as a song.
Your veil of the saffron colour
makes my eyes drunk.
The jasmine wreath...Read more of this...
by
Walt Whitman
TURN, O Libertad, for the war is over,
(From it and all henceforth expanding, doubting no more, resolute, sweeping the world,)
Turn from lands retrospective, recording proofs of the past;
From the singers that sing the trailing glories of the past;
From the chants of the feudal world—the triumphs of kings, slavery, caste;
Turn to the world, the triumphs reserv’d...Read more of this...
by
Friedrich von Schiller
A gentle was Fridolin,
And he his mistress dear,
Savern's fair Countess, honored in
All truth and godly fear.
She was so meek, and, ah! so good!
Yet each wish of her wayward mood,
He would have studied to fulfil,
To please his God, with earnest will.
From the first hour when daylight shone
Till rang the vesper-chime,
He lived but for her will alone,
And deemed e'en that scarce...Read more of this...
by
W S Merwin
As they were leaving the garden
one of the angels bent down to them and whispered
I am to give you this
as you are leaving the garden
I do not know what it is
or what it is for
what you will do with it
you will not be able to keep it
but you will not be able
to keep anything
yet they both reached at once
for the...Read more of this...
by
Paul Laurence Dunbar
In the forenoon's restful quiet,
When the boys are off at school,
When the window lights are shaded
And the chimney-corner cool,
Then the old man seeks his armchair,
Lights his pipe and settles back;
Falls a-dreaming as he draws it
Till the smoke-wreaths gather black.
And the tear-drops come a-trickling
Down his cheeks, a silver flow—
Smoke or memories you wonder,
But you never ask him,—no;
For there 's something almost...Read more of this...
by
Anne Kingsmill Finch
POOR River, now thou'rt almost dry,
What Nymph, or Swain, will near thee lie?
Since brought, alas! to sad Decay,
What Flocks, or Herds, will near thee stay?
The Swans, that sought thee in thy Pride,
Now on new Streams forgetful ride:
And Fish, that in thy Bosom lay,
Chuse in more prosp'rous Floods to play.
All leave thee,...Read more of this...
by
Friedrich von Schiller
Mirth the halls of Troy was filling,
Ere its lofty ramparts fell;
From the golden lute so thrilling
Hymns of joy were heard to swell.
From the sad and tearful slaughter
All had laid their arms aside,
For Pelides Priam's daughter
Claimed then as his own fair bride.
Laurel branches with them bearing,
Troop on troop in bright array
To the temples were repairing,
Owning Thymbrius' sovereign sway.
Through the streets,...Read more of this...
by
Siegfried Sassoon
In me, past, present, future meet
To hold long chiding conference.
My lusts usurp the present tense
And strangle Reason in his seat.
My loves leap through the future’s fence
To dance with dream-enfranchised feet.
In me the cave-man clasps the seer,
And garlanded Apollo goes
Chanting to Abraham’s deaf ear.
In me the tiger sniffs the rose.
Look in my heart, kind friends, and tremble,
Since there your elements...Read more of this...
by
Robert Herrick
Fly to my mistress, pretty pilfering bee,
And say thou bring'st this honey-bag from me;
When on her lip thou hast thy sweet dew placed,
Mark if her tongue but slyly steal a taste;
If so, we live; if not, with mournful hum,
Toll forth my death; next, to my burial come....Read more of this...
by
Robert Herrick
Go, pretty child, and bear this flower
Unto thy little Saviour;
And tell him, by that bud now blown,
He is the Rose of Sharon known.
When thou hast said so, stick it there
Upon his bib or stomacher;
And tell him, for good handsel too,
That thou hast brought a whistle new,
Made of a clean straight oaten reed,
To charm his cries at time of need;
Tell...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
How much the present moment means
To those who've nothing more --
The Fop -- the Carp -- the Atheist --
Stake an entire store
Upon a Moment's shallow Rim
While their commuted Feet
The Torrents of Eternity
Do all but inundate --...Read more of this...
by
Philip Levine
The day comes slowly in the railyard
behind the ice factory. It broods on
one cinder after another until each
glows like lead or the eye of a dog
possessed of no inner fire, the brown
and greasy pointer who raises his muzzle
a moment and sighing lets it thud
down on the loading dock. In no time
the...Read more of this...
by
Thomas Hood
I remember, I remember
The house where I was born,
The little window where the sun
Came peeping in at morn;
He never came a wink too soon
Nor bought too long a day;
But now, I often wish the night
Had borne my breath away.
I remember, I remember
The roses, red and white,
The violets, and the lily-cups--
Those flowers made of light!
The lilacs where the robin built,
And...Read more of this...
by
Sylvia Plath
What is this, behind this veil, is it ugly, is it beautiful?
It is shimmering, has it breasts, has it edges?
I am sure it is unique, I am sure it is what I want.
When I am quiet at my cooking I feel it looking, I feel it thinking
'Is this the one I am too appear for,
Is this the elect one,...Read more of this...
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