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Famous Berkshire Poems by Famous Poets

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

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by Kilmer, Joyce
...oad,
And he spent all his time fishing, while his neighbors reaped and 
sowed.
He was the luckiest fisherman in the Berkshire hills, I think.
And when he didn't go fishing he'd sit in the tavern and drink.
Well, Dave is dead and buried and nobody cares 
very much;
They have no use in Greylock for drunkards and loafers and such.
But I always liked Dave Lilly, he was pleasant as you could wish;
He was shiftless and good-for-nothing, but he certainly could fish.<...Read More



by Tennyson, Alfred Lord
...since, to guard the justice of the King: 
He looked and found them wanting; and as now 
Men weed the white horse on the Berkshire hills 
To keep him bright and clean as heretofore, 
He rooted out the slothful officer 
Or guilty, which for bribe had winked at wrong, 
And in their chairs set up a stronger race 
With hearts and hands, and sent a thousand men 
To till the wastes, and moving everywhere 
Cleared the dark places and let in the law, 
And broke the bandit holds and cl...Read More

by Raleigh, Sir Walter
.... 

Clouds will sail and winds will blow 
As they did an age ago 
O'er us who lived in little towns 
Underneath the Berkshire downs. 
When at heart you shall be sad, 
Pondering the joys we had, 
Listen and keep very still. 
If the lowing from the hill 
Or the tolling of a bell 
Do not serve to break the spell, 
Listen; you may be allowed 
To hear my laughter from a cloud. 

Take the good that life can give 
For the time you have to live. 
Friends of yours ...Read More

by Wilde, Oscar
...(In memoriam
C. T. W.
Sometime trooper of the Royal Horse Guards
obiit H.M. prison, Reading, Berkshire
July 7, 1896)

I

He did not wear his scarlet coat,
For blood and wine are red,
And blood and wine were on his hands
When they found him with the dead,
The poor dead woman whom he loved,
And murdered in her bed.

He walked amongst the Trial Men
In a suit of shabby grey;
A cricket cap was on his head,
And his step seemed light and gay;
But I nev...Read More

by McGonagall, William Topaz
...'Twas at the disastrous battle of Maiwand, in Afghanistan,
Where the Berkshires were massacred to the last man;
On the morning of July the 27th, in the year eighteen eighty,
Which I'm sorry to relate was a pitiful sight to see. 

Ayoub Khan's army amounted to twelve thousand in all,
And honestly speaking it wasn't very small,
And by such a great force the Berkshires were killed to the last man,
By a murderous rebel horde ...Read More



by McGonagall, William Topaz
...Marines formed the east side of the square,
While clouds of dust and smoke did darken the air,
And on the west side the Berkshire were engaged in the fight,
Firing steadily and cooly with all their might. 

Still camp followers were carried along by the huge animal mass,
And along the face of the zereba 'twas difficult to pass,
Because the mass of brutes swept on in wild dismay,
Which caused the troops to be thrown into disorderly array. 

Then Indians and Bluejackets...Read More

by Arnold, Matthew
...loak of grey,
The same the gypsies wore.
Shepherds had met him on the Hurst in spring;
At some lone alehouse in the Berkshire moors,
On the warm ingle-bench, the smock-frocked boors
Had found him seated at their entering,

But, 'mid their drink and clatter, he would fly.
And I myself seem half to know thy looks,
And put the shepherds, wanderer! on thy trace;
And boys who in lone wheatfields scare the rooks
I ask if thou hast passed their quiet place;

Or in my boat I ...Read More

by Arnold, Matthew
...e dusk hill-side,
A troop of Oxford hunters going home,
As in old days, jovial and talking, ride!
From hunting with the Berkshire hounds they come.
Quick! let me fly, and cross
Into yon farther field!--'Tis done; and see,
Back'd by the sunset, which doth glorify
The orange and pale violet evening-sky,
Bare on its lonely ridge, the Tree! the Tree!

I take the omen! Eve lets down her veil,
The white fog creeps from bush to bush about,
The west unflushes, the high stars grow...Read More

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