Famous Bait Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Ad Piscatorem

by Robert Louis Stevenson
 FOR these are sacred fishes all
Who know that lord that is the lord of all;
Come to the brim and nose the friendly hand
That sways and can beshadow all the land.
Nor only so, but have their names, and come
When they are summoned by the Lord of Rome.
Here once his line an impious Lybian threw;
And as with tremulous reed his prey...Read more of this...

At Broad Ripple

by James Whitcomb Riley
 Oh luxury! Beyond the heat 
And dust of town, with dangling feet 
Astride the rock below the dam, 
In the cool shadows where the calm 
Rests on the stream again, and all 
Is silent save the waterfall,-- 
I bait my hook and cast my line, 
And feel the best of life is mine.

No high ambition can I claim --...Read more of this...

A Dialogue Between the Resolved Soul And Created Pleasure

by Andrew Marvell
 Courage my Soul, now learn to wield
The weight of thine immortal Shield.
Close on thy Head thy Helmet bright.
Ballance thy Sword against the Fight.
See where an Army, strong as fair,
With silken Banners spreads the air.
Now, if thou bee'st that thing Divine,
In this day's Combat let it shine:
And shew that Nature wants an Art
To conquer one resolved Heart.

Pleasure
Welcome the Creations Guest,
Lord...Read more of this...

Canzone IV

by Francesco Petrarch
CANZONE IV. Si è debile il filo a cui s' attene. HE GRIEVES IN ABSENCE FROM LAURA.  The thread on which my weary life dependsSo fragile is and weak,If none kind succour lends,Soon 'neath the painful burden will it break;Since doom'd to take my sad farewell of her,In whom begins...Read more of this...

Bobber

by Raymond Carver
 On the Columbia River near Vantage, 
Washington, we fished for whitefish 
in the winter months; my dad, Swede- 
Mr. Lindgren-and me. They used belly-reels, 
pencil-length sinkers, red, yellow, or brown 
flies baited with maggots. 
They wanted distance and went clear out there 
to the edge of the riffle. 
I fished near shore with a quill bobber and a cane...Read more of this...

A Farewell to False Love

by Sir Walter Raleigh
Farewell false love, the oracle of lies, 
A mortal foe and enemy to rest, 
An envious boy, from whom all cares arise, 
A bastard vile, a beast with rage possessed, 
A way of error, a temple full of treason, 
In all effects contrary unto reason. 

A poisoned serpent covered all with flowers, 
Mother of sighs, and murderer of repose, 
A...Read more of this...

The Castle

by Edwin Muir
 All through that summer at ease we lay,
And daily from the turret wall
We watched the mowers in the hay
And the enemy half a mile away
They seemed no threat to us at all. 

For what, we thought, had we to fear
With our arms and provender, load on load,
Our towering battlements, tier on tier,
And friendly allies drawing near
On every leafy summer...Read more of this...

Venus Runaway

by Ben Jonson
 Beauties, have ye seen this toy,
Called Love, a little boy,
Almost naked, wanton, blind;
Cruel now, and then as kind?
If he be amongst ye, say?
He is Venus' runaway.

She that will but now discover
Where the winged wag doth hover,
Shall to-night receive a kiss,
How or where herself would wish:
But who brings him to his mother,
Shall have that kiss, and another.

He hath marks about...Read more of this...

The Flaâneur

by Oliver Wendell Holmes
 I love all sights of earth and skies, 
From flowers that glow to stars that shine; 
The comet and the penny show, 
All curious things, above, below, 
Hold each in turn my wandering eyes: 
I claim the Christian Pagan's line, 
Humani nihil, -- even so, -- 
And is not human life divine? 
When soft the western breezes blow, 
And...Read more of this...

Water

by Robert Lowell
 It was a Maine lobster town—
each morning boatloads of hands
pushed off for granite
quarries on the islands,

and left dozens of bleak 
white frame houses stuck
like oyster shells
on a hill of rock,

and below us, the sea lapped
the raw little match-stick 
mazes of a weir,
where the fish for bait were trapped.

Remember? We sat on a slab of rock.
>From this distance in time
it...Read more of this...

Hugh Selwyn Mauberly (Part I)

by Ezra Pound
 "Vocat aestus in umbram" 
Nemesianus Es. IV. 

E. P. Ode pour l'élection de son sépulchre 

For three years, out of key with his time,
He strove to resuscitate the dead art
Of poetry; to maintain "the sublime"
In the old sense. Wrong from the start --

No, hardly, but, seeing he had been born
In a half savage country, out of date;
Bent resolutely on...Read more of this...

Gignol

by Robert William Service
 Addict of Punch and Judy shows
 I was when I was small;
My kiddy laughter, I suppose,
 Rang louder than them all.
The Judge with banter I would bait,
 The Copper was a wretch;
But oh how I would hiss my hate
 For grim Jack Ketch.

Although a grandsire grey I still
 Love Punch and Judy shows,
And with my toddlers help to fill
...Read more of this...

Kicks

by Howard Nemerov
 The fishermen on Lake Michigan, sometimes,
For kicks, they spit two hunks of bait on hooks
At either end of a single length of line
And toss that up among the scavenging gulls,

Who go for it so fast that often two of them
Make the connection before it hits the water.
Hooked and hung up like that, they do a dance
That lasts only so...Read more of this...

The Bait

by John Donne
 Come live with me, and be my love,
And we will some new pleasures prove,
Of golden sand, and crystal brooks,
With silken lines and silver hooks.

There will the river whispering run,
Warmed by thy eyes more than the sun.
And there the enamoured fish will stay.
Begging themselves they may betray.

When wilt thou swim in that live bath,
Each fish, which every channel hath,
Will amorously...Read more of this...

Oh to be idle loving idleness!

by Fernando Pessoa
Oh to be idle loving idleness!

But I am idle all in hate of me;

Ever in action's dream, in the false stress

Of purposed action never set to be.

Like a fierce beast self-penned in a bait-lair,

My will to act binds with excess my action,

Not-acting coils the thought with raged despair,

And acting rage doth paint despair distraction.

Like someone sinking in a treacherous sand,

Each...Read more of this...

White

by Charles Simic
 A New Version: 1980

 What is that little black thing I see there
 in the white?
 Walt Whitman


One

Out of poverty
To begin again: 

With the color of the bride
And that of blindness,

Touch what I can
Of the quick,

Speak and then wait,
As if this light

Will continue to linger
On the threshold.



All that is near,
I no longer give it a name.

Once a stone hard...Read more of this...

Badger

by John Clare
 When midnight comes a host of dogs and men
Go out and track the badger to his den,
And put a sack within the hole, and lie
Till the old grunting badger passes by.
He comes an hears - they let the strongest loose.
The old fox gears the noise and drops the goose.
The poacher shoots and hurries from the cry,
And the old hare...Read more of this...

A Dialogue Between the Resolved Soul And Created Pleasure

by Andrew Marvell
 Courage my Soul, now learn to wield
The weight of thine immortal Shield.
Close on thy Head thy Helmet bright.
Ballance thy Sword against the Fight.
See where an Army, strong as fair,
With silken Banners spreads the air.
Now, if thou bee'st that thing Divine,
In this day's Combat let it shine:
And shew that Nature wants an Art
To conquer one resolved Heart.

Pleasure
Welcome the Creations Guest,
Lord...Read more of this...

When A Feller's Itchin' To Be Spanked

by Paul Laurence Dunbar
W'en us fellers stomp around, makin' lots o' noise,
Gramma says, "There's certain times come to little boys
W'en they need a shingle or the soft side of a plank;"
She says "we're a-itchin' for a right good spank."
An' she says, "Now thes you wait,
It's a-comin'—soon or late,
W'en a feller's itchin' fer a spank."
W'en a feller's out o' school, you know how he...Read more of this...

Sonnet CLXXVII

by Francesco Petrarch
SONNET CLXXVII. Beato in sogno, e di languir contento. THOUGH SO LONG LOVE'S FAITHFUL SERVANT, HIS ONLY REWARD HAS BEEN TEARS.  Happy in visions, and content to pine,Shadows to clasp, to chase the summer gale,On shoreless and unfathom'd sea to sail,To build on sand, and in the air design,The sun to...Read more of this...

Tranquillity

by Robert William Service
 This morning on my pensive walk
I saw a fisher on a rock,
Who watched his ruby float careen
In waters bluely crystalline,
While silver fishes nosed his bait,
Yet hesitated ere they ate.

Nearby I saw a mother mid
Who knitted by her naked child,
And watched him as he romped with glee,
In golden sand, in singing sea,
Her eyes so blissfully love-lit
She gazed and gazed and...Read more of this...

The Double Image

by Anne Sexton
 1.

I am thirty this November.
You are still small, in your fourth year.
We stand watching the yellow leaves go *****,
flapping in the winter rain.
falling flat and washed. And I remember
mostly the three autumns you did not live here.
They said I'd never get you back again.
I tell you what you'll never really know:
all the medical hypothesis
that explained my brain will never...Read more of this...

Ballad Of The Long-Legged Bait

by Dylan Thomas
 The bows glided down, and the coast
Blackened with birds took a last look
At his thrashing hair and whale-blue eye;
The trodden town rang its cobbles for luck.

Then good-bye to the fishermanned
Boat with its anchor free and fast
As a bird hooking over the sea,
High and dry by the top of the mast,

Whispered the affectionate sand
And the bulwarks of the dazzled quay.
For...Read more of this...

Dave Lilly

by Joyce Kilmer
 There's a brook on the side of Greylock that used 
to be full of trout,
But there's nothing there now but minnows; they say it is all fished 
out.
I fished there many a Summer day some twenty years ago,
And I never quit without getting a mess of a dozen or so.
There was a man, Dave Lilly, who lived on the...Read more of this...

Resurrection

by Barry Tebb
 I thought of my ‘faculty of poetry’

As of the eye

The bream or white-bait showed

In its hysterical dance of death

When the receding tide

Left it asleep

In a shallow pool on the shore.



Why did I fail to take it?

Was I strangely compassionate

Or merely afraid to touch

The jerking spasm of flesh

With the still eye?



Or was it I on the shore

In the shallow pool,...Read more of this...

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