10 Best Famous Bowler Hat Poems

Here is a collection of the top 10 all-time best famous Bowler Hat poems. This is a select list of the best famous Bowler Hat poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Bowler Hat poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of bowler hat poems.

• All Famous Bowler Hat Poems

 I met upon a narrow way,
Dead weary from his toil,
A fellow warped and gnarled and grey,
Who reeked of sweat and soil.
His rags were readyful to rot,
His eyes were dreary dim;
Yet . . . yet I had the humble thought
To raise my hat to him. 

For thinks I: It's the likes of him
That makes the likes of me;
With horny hand and lagging limb
He slaves to keep me free;
That I may have a golden time,
And praise the Lord on high,
Life grinds into the bloody grime
A better man than I. 

Yet if in sheer humility
I yield this yokel place,
Will he not think it mockery
And spit into my face,
Saying: "How can you care a damn,
As now my way you bar,
When it's because of what I am,
You, Sir, are what you are?" 

But no, he did not speak like that,
Nor homage did I pay;
I did not lift my bowler hat
To greet his common clay;
Instead, he made me feel an ass,
As most respectfully
He stepped aside to let me pass,
And raised his cap to ME.

 I am the unnoticed, the unnoticable man: 
The man who sat on your right in the morning train:
The man who looked through like a windowpane:
The man who was the colour of the carriage, the colour of the mounting
Morning pipe smoke. 
I am the man too busy with a living to live,
Too hurried and worried to see and smell and touch:
The man who is patient too long and obeys too much
And wishes too softly and seldom. 

I am the man they call the nation's backbone,
Who am boneless - playable castgut, pliable clay:
The Man they label Little lest one day
I dare to grow. 

I am the rails on which the moment passes,
The megaphone for many words and voices:
I am the graph diagram,
Composite face. 

I am the led, the easily-fed,
The tool, the not-quite-fool,
The would-be-safe-and-sound,
The uncomplaining, bound,
The dust fine-ground,
Stone-for-a-statue waveworn pebble-round

 I much admire, I must admit,
 The man who robs a Bank;
It takes a lot of guts and grit,
 For lack of which I thank
The gods: a chap 'twould make of me
 You wouldn't ask to tea.

I do not mean a burglar cove
 Who climbs into a house,
From room to room flash-lit to rove
 As quiet as a mouse;
Ah no, in Crime he cannot rank
 With him who robs a Bank.

Who seemeth not to care a whoop
 For danger at its height;
Who handles what is known as 'soup,'
 And dandles dynamite:
Unto a bloke who can do that
 I doff my bowler hat.

I think he is the kind of stuff
 To be a mighty man
In battlefield,--aye, brave enough
 The Cross Victorian
To win and rise to high command,
 A hero in the land.

What General with all his swank
Has guts enough to rob a Bank!