Best Famous Bemoaned Poems
Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Bemoaned poems. This is a select list of the best famous Bemoaned poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Bemoaned poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of bemoaned poems.
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Written by
William Shakespeare |
WHEN to the Sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste:
Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow,
For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,
And weep afresh love's long-since-cancell'd woe,
And moan th' expense of many a vanish'd sight:
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.
But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restored and sorrows end.
|
Written by
William Shakespeare |
When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste:
Then can I drown an eye, unus'd to flow,
For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,
And weep afresh love's long since cancell'd woe,
And moan th' expense of many a vanish'd sight;
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.
But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restor'd, and sorrows end.
|
Written by
William Shakespeare |
When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste:
Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow,
For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,
And weep afresh love's long since cancell'd woe,
And moan the expense of many a vanish'd sight:
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.
But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restored and sorrows end.
|
Written by
Robert William Service |
"Alas! my songs have ceased to sell,"
Bemoaned a brother bard;
To me his words were like a knell,
Inexorably hard.
For well I know the day is nigh
When time will toll the bell,
And people will no longer buy
The songs I have to sell.
To barter books for bread, thought I,
I have no pressing need;
I do do not care if folks will buy,
So long as they will read.
No more, I said, I'll flash my head
With dollars or with pence;
But I would go before I know
Mankind's indifference.
For O I've loved my puny pen
Beyond all human tie!
My life I give to it and when
It fails me I will die.
So like a child, each precious night,
Indulgence I implore;
Praying: "Oh God! please let me write
Just one book more."
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