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Best Famous Elopement Poems

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

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Written by Anne Sexton | Create an image from this poem

The Wedding Ring Dance

 I dance in circles holding
the moth of the marriage,
thin, sticky, fluttering
its skirts, its webs.
The moth oozing a tear,
or is it a drop of urine?
The moth, grinning like a pear,
or is it teeth
clamping the iron maiden shut?

The moth,
who is my mother,
who is my father,
who was my lover,
floats airily out of my hands
and I dance slower,
pulling off the fat diamond engagement ring,
pulling off the elopement wedding ring,
and holding them, clicking them
in thumb and forefinger,
the indent of twenty-five years,
like a tiny rip of a tiny earthquake.
Underneath the soil lies the violence,
the shift, the crack of continents,
the anger,
and above only a cut,
a half-inch space to stick a pencil in.

The finger is scared
but it keeps its long numb place.
And I keep dancing,
a sort of waltz,
clicking the two rings,
all of a life at its last cough,
as I swim through the air of the kitchen,
and the same radio plays its songs
and I make a small path through them
with my bare finger and my funny feet,
doing the undoing dance,
on April 14th, 1973,
letting my history rip itself off me
and stepping into
something unknown
and transparent,
but all ten fingers stretched outward,
flesh extended as metal
waiting for a magnet.


Written by Andrew Barton Paterson | Create an image from this poem

The Mylora Elopement

 By the winding Wollondilly where the weeping willows weep, 
And the shepherd, with his billy, half awake and half asleep, 
Folds his fleecy flocks that linger homewards in the setting sun 
Lived my hero, Jim the Ringer, "cocky" on Mylora Run. 
Jimmy loved the super's daughter, Miss Amelia Jane McGrath. 
Long and earnestly he sought her, but he feared her stern papa; 
And Amelia loved him truly -- but the course of love, if true, 
Never yet ran smooth or duly, as I think it ought to do. 

Pondering o'er his predilection, Jimmy watched McGrath, the boss, 
Riding past his lone selection, looking for a station 'oss 
That was running in the ranges with a mob of outlaws wild. 
Mac the time of day exchanges -- off goes Jim to see his child; 

Says, "The old man's after Stager, which he'll find is no light job, 
And tomorrow I will wager he will try and yard the mob. 
Will you come with me tomorrow? I will let the parson know, 
And for ever, joy or sorrow, he will join us here below. 

"I will bring the nags so speedy, Crazy Jane and Tambourine, 
One more kiss -- don't think I'm greedy -- good-bye, lass, before I'm seen -- 
Just one more -- God bless you, dearie! Don't forget to meet me here, 
Life without you is but weary; now, once more, good-bye, my dear." 


* * * * * 
The daylight shines on figures twain 
That ride across Mylora Plain, 
Laughing and talking -- Jim and Jane. 
"Steady, darling. There's lots of time, 
Didn't we slip the old man prime! 
I knew he'd tackle that Bowneck mob, 
I reckon he'll find it too big a job. 
They've beaten us all. I had a try, 
But the warrigal devils seem to fly. 
That Sambo's a real good but of stuff 
No doubt, but not quite good enough. 
He'll have to gallop the livelong day, 
To cut and come, to race and stay. 
I hope he yards 'em, 'twill do him good; 
To see us going I don't think would." 
A turn in the road and, fair and square, 
They meet the old man standing there. 
"What's up?" "Why, running away, of course," 
Says Jim, emboldened. The old man turned, 
His eye with wild excitement burned. 
"I've raced all day through the scorching heat 
After old Bowneck: and now I'm beat. 
But over that range I think you'll find 
The Bowneck mob all run stone-blind. 
Will you go, and leave the mob behind? 
Which will you do? Take the girl away, 
Or ride like a white man should today, 
And yard old Bowneck? Go or stay?" 
Says Jim, "I can't throw this away, 
We can bolt some other day, of course -- 
Amelia Jane, get off that horse! 
Up you get, Old Man. Whoop, halloo! 
Here goes to put old Bowneck through!" 
Two distant specks om the mountain side, 
Two stockwhips echoing far and wide. . . . 
Amelia Jane sat down and cried. 

* * * * * 

"Sakes, Amelia, what's up now? 
Leading old Sambo, too, I vow, 
And him deadbeat. Where have you been? 
'Bolted with Jim!' What do you mean> 
'Met the old man with Sambo, licked 
From running old Bowneck.' Well, I'm kicked -- 
'Ran 'em till Sambo nearly dropped?' 
What did Jim do when you were stopped? 
Did you bolt from father across the plain? 
'Jim made you get off Crazy Jane! 
And father got on, and away again 
The two of 'em went to the ranges grim.' 
Good boy, Jimmy! Oh, well done, Jim! 
They're sure to get them now, of course, 
That Tambourine is a spanking horse. 
And Crazy Jane is good as gold. 
And Jim, they say, rides pretty bold -- 
Not like your father, but very fair. 
Jim will have to follow the mare." 
"It never was yet in father's hide 
To best my Jim on the mountain side. 
Jim can rally, and Jim can ride." 
But here again Amelia cried. 

* * * * * 

The sound of whip comes faint and far, 
A rattle of hoofs, and here they are, 
In all their tameless pride. 
The fleet wild horses snort and fear, 
And wheel and break as the yard draws near. 
Now, Jim the Ringer, ride! 
Wheel 'em! wheel 'em! Whoa back there, whoa! 
And the foam flakes fly like the driven snow, 
As under the whip the horses go 
Adown the mountain side. 
And Jim, hands down, and teeth firm set, 
On a horse that never has failed him yet, 
Is after them down the range. 
Well ridden! well ridden! they wheel -- whoa back! 
And long and loud the stockwhips crack, 
Their flying course they change; 
"Steadily does it -- let Sambo go! 
Open those sliprails down below. 
Smart! or you'll be too late. 

* * * * * 

"They'll follow old Sambo up -- look out! 
Whee! that black horse -- give Sam a clout. 
They're in! Make fast the gate." 

* * * * * 

The mob is safely in the yard! 
The old man mounts delighted guard. 
No thought has he but for his prize. 

* * * * * 

Jim catches poor Amelia's eyes. 
"Will you come after all? The job is done, 
And Crazy Jane is fit to run 
For a prince's life -- now don't say no; 
Slip on while the old man's down below 
At the inner yard, and away we'll go. 
Will you come, my girl?" "I will, you bet; 
We'll manage this here elopement yet." 

* * * * * 


By the winding Wollondilly stands the hut of Ringer Jim. 
And his loving little Meely makes a perfect god of him. 
He has stalwart sons and daughters, and, I think, before he's done, 
There'll be numerous "Six-fortys" taken on Mylora Run.

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry