10 Best Famous Civilians Poems

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

• All Famous Civilians Poems

 Boanerges Blitzen, servant of the Queen,
Is a dismal failure -- is a Might-have-been.
In a luckless moment he discovered men
Rise to high position through a ready pen.

Boanerges Blitzen argued therefore -- "I,
With the selfsame weapon, can attain as high."
Only he did not possess when he made the trial,
Wicked wit of C-lv-n, irony of L--l.

[Men who spar with Government need, to back their blows,
Something more than ordinary journalistic prose.]

Never young Civilian's prospects were so bright,
Till an Indian paper found that he could write:
Never young Civilian's prospects were so dark,
When the wretched Blitzen wrote to make his mark.

Certainly he scored it, bold, and black, and firm,
In that Indian paper -- made his seniors squirm,
Quated office scandals, wrote the tactless truth --
Was there ever known a more misguided youth?

When the Rag he wrote for praised his plucky game,
Boanerges Blitzen felt that this was Fame;
When the men he wrote of shook their heads and swore,
Boanerges Blitzen only wrote the more:

Posed as Young Ithuriel, resolute and grim,
Till he found promotion didn't come to him;
Till he found that reprimands weekly were his lot,
And his many Districts curiously hot.

Till he found his furlough strangely hard to win,
Boanerges Blitzen didn't care to pin:
Then it seemed to dawn on him something wasn't right --
Boanerges Blitzen put it down to "spite";

Languished in a District desolate and dry;
Watched the Local Government yearly pass him by;
Wondered where the hitch was; called it most unfair.
 . . . . .
That was seven years ago -- and he still is there!

 We are very slightly changed
From the semi-apes who ranged
 India's Prehistoric clay;
He that drew the longest bow
Ran his brother down, you know,
 As we run men down to-tday.

"Dowb," the first of all his race,
Met the Mammoth face to face
 On the lake or in the cave:
Stole the steadiest canoe,
Ate the quarry others slew,
 Died -- and took the finest grave.

When they scratched the reindeer-bone,
Some one made the sketch his own,
 Filched it from the artist -- then,
Even in those early days,
Won a simple Viceroy's praise
 Through the toil of other men.
Ere they hewed the Sphinx's visage
Favouritism governed kissage,
 Even as it does in this age.

Who shall doubt "the secret hid
Under Cheops' pyramid"
Was that the contractor did
 Cheops out of several millions?
Or that Joseph's sudden rise
To comptroller of Supplies
Was a fraud of monstrous size
 On King Pharaoh's swart Civilians?

Thus, the artless songs I sing
Do not deal with anything
 New or never said before.
As it was in the beginning
Is to-day official sinning,
 And shall be for evermore!

 DID you ask dulcet rhymes from me? 
Did you seek the civilian’s peaceful and languishing rhymes? 
Did you find what I sang erewhile so hard to follow? 
Why I was not singing erewhile for you to follow, to understand—nor am I now; 
(I have been born of the same as the war was born;
The drum-corps’ harsh rattle is to me sweet music—I love well the martial dirge,

With slow wail, and convulsive throb, leading the officer’s funeral:) 
—What to such as you, anyhow, such a poet as I?—therefore leave my works, 
And go lull yourself with what you can understand—and with piano-tunes; 
For I lull nobody—and you will never understand me.