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Famous Bench Poems by Famous Poets

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

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by Teasdale, Sara
...k, they look
Along the empty paths and say, "Oh, here
They went, and here, and here, and here! Come, see,
Here is their bench, take hands and let us dance
About it in a windy ring and make
A circle round it only they can cross
When they come back again!" . . . Look at the lake --
Do you remember how we watched the swans
That night in late October while they slept?
Swans must have stately dreams, I think. But now
The lake bears only thin reflected lights
That s...Read more of this...



by Chaucer, Geoffrey
...n in filth and in errour,
Lady! *on that country thou me adjourn,*         *take me to that place*
That called is thy bench of freshe flow'r,
There as that mercy ever shall sojourn.

                               X.

Xpe  thy Son, that in this world alight,
Upon a cross to suffer his passioun,
And suffer'd eke that Longeus his heart pight,*              *pierced
And made his hearte-blood to run adown;
And all this was for my salvatioun:
And I to him...Read more of this...

by Tebb, Barry
...plar’s side and when I

Shared their meal; it was

A feast of love and Auntie

Betty smiled as I sat

Beside her on the bench

“There’s always room for

One more inside” and I went along

For the ride.



17



Ride-a-cock horse to

Roundhay Park where




The tram terminus still

Stands, a bay with poles

Of steel too tall and

Strong to shift, between

The cobbles, tram lines

Lay buried, the upper

Deck is filled with the

Smoke of Capstan Full

Strength and nicotined
...Read more of this...

by Aldington, Richard
...rd people say. 

I took a little black book 
To that cold, grey, damp, smelling church, 
And I had to sit on a hard bench, 
Wriggle off it to kneel down when they sang psalms 
And wriggle off it to kneel down when they prayed, 
And then there was nothing to do 
Except to play trains with the hymn-books. 

There was nothing to see, 
Nothing to do, 
Nothing to play with, 
Except that in an empty room upstairs 
There was a large tin box 
Containing reproductions of the M...Read more of this...

by Eliot, T S (Thomas Stearns)
...yl bare,
Here faylez thou not to fyyght."
"Nay, frayst I no fyyght, in fayth I the telle,
Hit arn aboute on this bench bot berdlez chylder.
If I were hasped in armes on a heyghe stede,

Here is no mon me to mach, for myyghtez so wayke.
Forthy I craue in this court a Crystemas gomen,
For hit is Yghol and Nwe Ygher, and here ar yghep mony:
If any so hardy in this hous holdez hymseluen,
Be so bolde in his blod, brayn in hys hede,
That dar stifly strike a s...Read more of this...



by Hikmet, Nazim
...THE AUTHOR'S NOTEBOOK


Ah, my patient reader!
Now we find ourselves in the French
military court in Shanghai.
The bench:
four generals, fourteen colonels,
and an armed black Congolese regiment.
The accused:
Gioconda.
The attorney for the defense:
an overly razed
--that is, overly artistic--
 French painter.
The scene is set.
 We're starting.


The defense attorney presents his case:


"Gentlemen,
this masterpiece
 that stands in your presence as the ...Read more of this...

by Ginsberg, Allen
...and Greystone's foetid 
 halls, bickering with the echoes of the soul, rock- 
 ing and rolling in the midnight solitude-bench 
 dolmen-realms of love, dream of life a night- 
 mare, bodies turned to stone as heavy as the 
 moon, 
with mother finally ******, and the last fantastic book 
 flung out of the tenement window, and the last 
 door closed at 4. A.M. and the last telephone 
 slammed at the wall in reply and the last fur- 
 nished room emptied down to the la...Read more of this...

by Whitman, Walt
...hat belongs to him in his boat, the deckhand 
singing on the steamboat deck, 
The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench, the hatter singing as he stands, 
The wood-cutter's song, the ploughboy's on his way in the morning, or 
at noon intermission or at sundown, 
The delicious singing of the mother, or of the young wife at work, or of 
the girl sewing or washing, 
Each singing what belongs to him or her and to none else, 
The day what belongs to the day--at night t...Read more of this...

by Brautigan, Richard
...read for them, so

they wouldn't have to do it themselves.

 I let the baby play in the sandbox and I sat down on a bench

and looked around. There was a beatnik sitting at the other

end -of the bench. He had his sleeping bag beside him and he

was eating apple turnovers. He had a huge sack of apple turn-

overs and he was gobbling them down like a turkey. It was

probably a more valid protest than picketing missile bases.

 The baby played in the san...Read more of this...

by Whitman, Walt
...she look’d upon her, she loved her, 
Never before had she seen such wonderful beauty and purity,
She made her sit on a bench by the jamb of the fireplace—she cook’d food for
 her, 
She had no work to give her, but she gave her remembrance and fondness. 

The red squaw staid all the forenoon, and toward the middle of the afternoon she went
 away, 
O my mother was loth to have her go away! 
All the week she thought of her—she watch’d for her many a month,
She remember’d he...Read more of this...

by Whitman, Walt
...Where the laughing-gull scoots by the shore, where she laughs her near-human
 laugh; 
Where bee-hives range on a gray bench in the garden, half hid by the high weeds;

Where band-neck’d partridges roost in a ring on the ground with their heads
 out; 
Where burial coaches enter the arch’d gates of a cemetery;
Where winter wolves bark amid wastes of snow and icicled trees; 
Where the yellow-crown’d heron comes to the edge of the marsh at night and
 feeds upon small cra...Read more of this...

by Masefield, John
...cus 
Died giving birth in Newent work'us. 
And Dick told how the Dymock wench 
Bore twins, poor things, on Dog Hill bench; 
And how he'd owned to one Court 
And how Judge made him sorry for't. 
Jack set a jew's harp twanging drily; 
"gimme another cup," said Riley. 
A dozen more were in their glories 
With laughs and smokes and smutty stories; 
And Jimmy joked and took his sup 
And sang his song of "Up, come up." 
Jane brought the bowl of stewing gin 
And pour...Read more of this...

by Lowell, Amy
...est
To please her guest she flew. A moment more
She came again, with her old nurse behind.
Then, sitting on the bench and knitting fast,
She talked as someone with a noble store
Of hidden fancies, blown upon the wind,
Eager to flutter forth and leave their silent past.

31
The little apple leaves above their heads
Let fall a quivering sunshine. Quiet, cool,
In blossomed boughs they sat. Beyond, the beds
Of tulips blazed, a proper vestibule
And antechamber ...Read more of this...

by Tennyson, Alfred Lord
...hed from out my hand, and fell. 
And up into the sounding hall I past; 
But nothing in the sounding hall I saw, 
No bench nor table, painting on the wall 
Or shield of knight; only the rounded moon 
Through the tall oriel on the rolling sea. 
But always in the quiet house I heard, 
Clear as a lark, high o'er me as a lark, 
A sweet voice singing in the topmost tower 
To the eastward: up I climbed a thousand steps 
With pain: as in a dream I seemed to climb 
For ever: a...Read more of this...

by Aiken, Conrad
...nd soft steps grew remote . .

'Well, let us walk in the park . . . The sun is warm,
We'll sit on a bench and talk . . .' They turn and glide,
The crowd of faces wavers and breaks and flows.
'Look how the oak-tops turn to gold in the sunlight!
Look how the tower is changed and glows!'

Two lovers move in the crowd like a link of music,
We press upon them, we hold them, and let them pass;
A chord of music strikes us and straight we tremble;
...Read more of this...

by Scott, Sir Walter
...rs drained, and cups o'erthrown,
     Showed in what sport the night had flown.
     Some, weary, snored on floor and bench;
     Some labored still their thirst to quench;
     Some, chilled with watching, spread their hands
     O'er the huge chimney's dying brands,
     While round them, or beside them flung,
     At every step their harness rung.
     III.

     These drew not for their fields the sword,
     Like tenants of a feudal lord,
     Nor owned the p...Read more of this...

by Chaucer, Geoffrey
...est as a fiend,
If that I walk or play unto his house.
Thou comest home as drunken as a mouse,
And preachest on thy bench, with evil prefe:* *proof
Thou say'st to me, it is a great mischief
To wed a poore woman, for costage:* *expense
And if that she be rich, of high parage;* * birth 11
Then say'st thou, that it is a tormentry
To suffer her pride and melancholy.
And if that she be fair, thou very knave,
Thou say'st that every holour* will her have; *whoremonger
She ma...Read more of this...

by Hugo, Victor
...
 From me as if it were a crime. 
 Even I'll look on patiently 
 If you your jagged toys all throw 
 Upon my carved bench, till it show 
 The wood is torn; and freely too, 
 I'll leave in your own hands to view, 
 My pictured Bible—oft desired— 
 But which to touch your fear inspired— 
 With God in emperor's robes attired. 
 
 Then if to see my verses burn, 
 Should seem to you a pleasant turn, 
 Take them to freely tear away 
 Or burn. But, oh! not so I'd say, ...Read more of this...

by Swift, Jonathan
...sought his blood.
To save them from their evil fate,
In him was held a crime of state.
A wicked monster on the bench,
Whose fury blood could never quench
- As vile and profligate a villain
As modern Scroggs, or old Tresilian;
Who long all justice had discarded,
Nor feared he God, nor man regarded - 
Vowed on the Dean his rage to vent,
And make him of his zeal repent.
But Heaven his innocence defends,
The grateful people stand his friends:
Not strains of law, nor ...Read more of this...

by Akhmatova, Anna
...
The slowly waving arms
Of this ancient windmill.
In a wing there lies a dead man,
Straight and grayhaired, on a bench,
As he did three years ago.
Thus the mice whet with their teeth
Books, thus the stearine candle
Leans its flame to the left.
And the odious tambourine
From the Nizhny Novgorod
Sings an uningenious song
Of my bitter happiness.
And the brightly painted
Dahlias stood straight
Along silver road.
Where are snails and wormwood.Read more of this...

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Book: Reflection on the Important Things