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Best Famous Emigrant Poems

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

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Written by Henry Lawson | Create an image from this poem

In The Days When The World Was Wide

 The world is narrow and ways are short, and our lives are dull and slow, 
For little is new where the crowds resort, and less where the wanderers go; 
Greater, or smaller, the same old things we see by the dull road-side -- 
And tired of all is the spirit that sings 
of the days when the world was wide. 

When the North was hale in the march of Time, 
and the South and the West were new, 
And the gorgeous East was a pantomime, as it seemed in our boyhood's view; 
When Spain was first on the waves of change, 
and proud in the ranks of pride, 
And all was wonderful, new and strange in the days when the world was wide. 

Then a man could fight if his heart were bold, 
and win if his faith were true -- 
Were it love, or honour, or power, or gold, or all that our hearts pursue; 
Could live to the world for the family name, or die for the family pride, 
Could fly from sorrow, and wrong, and shame 
in the days when the world was wide. 

They sailed away in the ships that sailed ere science controlled the main, 
When the strong, brave heart of a man prevailed 
as 'twill never prevail again; 
They knew not whither, nor much they cared -- 
let Fate or the winds decide -- 
The worst of the Great Unknown they dared 
in the days when the world was wide. 

They raised new stars on the silent sea that filled their hearts with awe; 
They came to many a strange countree and marvellous sights they saw. 
The villagers gaped at the tales they told, 
and old eyes glistened with pride -- 
When barbarous cities were paved with gold 
in the days when the world was wide. 

'Twas honest metal and honest wood, in the days of the Outward Bound, 
When men were gallant and ships were good -- roaming the wide world round. 
The gods could envy a leader then when `Follow me, lads!' he cried -- 
They faced each other and fought like men 
in the days when the world was wide. 

They tried to live as a freeman should -- they were happier men than we, 
In the glorious days of wine and blood, when Liberty crossed the sea; 
'Twas a comrade true or a foeman then, and a trusty sword well tried -- 
They faced each other and fought like men 
in the days when the world was wide. 

The good ship bound for the Southern seas when the beacon was Ballarat, 
With a `Ship ahoy!' on the freshening breeze, 
`Where bound?' and `What ship's that?' -- 
The emigrant train to New Mexico -- the rush to the Lachlan Side -- 
Ah! faint is the echo of Westward Ho! 
from the days when the world was wide. 

South, East, and West in advance of Time -- and, ay! in advance of Thought 
Those brave men rose to a height sublime -- and is it for this they fought? 
And is it for this damned life we praise the god-like spirit that died 
At Eureka Stockade in the Roaring Days 
with the days when the world was wide? 

We fight like women, and feel as much; the thoughts of our hearts we guard; 
Where scarcely the scorn of a god could touch, 
the sneer of a sneak hits hard; 
The treacherous tongue and cowardly pen, the weapons of curs, decide -- 
They faced each other and fought like men 
in the days when the world was wide. 

Think of it all -- of the life that is! Study your friends and foes! 
Study the past! And answer this: `Are these times better than those?' 
The life-long quarrel, the paltry spite, the sting of your poisoned pride! 
No matter who fell it were better to fight 
as they did when the world was wide. 

Boast as you will of your mateship now -- crippled and mean and sly -- 
The lines of suspicion on friendship's brow 
were traced since the days gone by. 
There was room in the long, free lines of the van 
to fight for it side by side -- 
There was beating-room for the heart of a man 
in the days when the world was wide. 

. . . . . 

With its dull, brown days of a-shilling-an-hour 
the dreary year drags round: 
Is this the result of Old England's power? 
-- the bourne of the Outward Bound? 
Is this the sequel of Westward Ho! -- of the days of Whate'er Betide? 
The heart of the rebel makes answer `No! 
We'll fight till the world grows wide!' 

The world shall yet be a wider world -- for the tokens are manifest; 
East and North shall the wrongs be hurled that followed us South and West. 
The march of Freedom is North by the Dawn! Follow, whate'er betide! 
Sons of the Exiles, march! March on! March till the world grows wide!


Written by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow | Create an image from this poem

Nuremberg

IN the valley of the Pegnitz, where across broad meadowlands 
Rise the blue Franconian mountains, Nuremberg, the ancient, stands. 

Quaint old town of toil and traffic, quaint old town of art and song, 
Memories haunt thy pointed gables, like the rooks that round them throng: 

Memories of the Middle Ages, when the emperors, rough and bold, 5 
Had their dwelling in thy castle, time-defying, centuries old; 

And thy brave and thrifty burghers boasted, in their uncouth rhyme, 
That their great imperial city stretched its hand through every clime. 

In the court-yard of the castle, bound with many an iron band, 
Stands the mighty linden planted by Queen Cunigunde's hand; 10 

On the square the oriel window, where in old heroic days 
Sat the poet Melchior singing Kaiser Maximilian's praise. 

Everywhere I see around me rise the wondrous world of Art: 
Fountains wrought with richest sculpture standing in the common mart; 

And above cathedral doorways saints and bishops carved in stone, 15 
By a former age commissioned as apostles to our own. 

In the church of sainted Sebald sleeps enshrined his holy dust, 
And in bronze the Twelve Apostles guard from age to age their trust; 

In the church of sainted Lawrence stands a pix of sculpture rare, 
Like the foamy sheaf of fountains, rising through the painted air. 20 

Here, when Art was still religion, with a simple, reverent heart, 
Lived and labored Albrecht D¨¹rer, the Evangelist of Art; 

Hence in silence and in sorrow, toiling still with busy hand, 
Like an emigrant he wandered, seeking for the Better Land. 

Emigravit is the inscription on the tombstone where he lies; 25 
Dead he is not, but departed,¡ªfor the artist never dies. 

Fairer seems the ancient city, and the sunshine seems more fair, 
That he once has trod its pavement, that he once has breathed its air! 

Through these streets so broad and stately, these obscure and dismal lanes, 
Walked of yore the Mastersingers, chanting rude poetic strains. 30 

From remote and sunless suburbs came they to the friendly guild, 
Building nests in Fame's great temple, as in spouts the swallows build. 

As the weaver plied the shuttle, wove he too the mystic rhyme, 
And the smith his iron measures hammered to the anvil's chime; 

Thanking God, whose boundless wisdom makes the flowers of poesy bloom 35 
In the forge's dust and cinders, in the tissues of the loom. 

Here Hans Sachs, the cobbler-poet, laureate of the gentle craft, 
Wisest of the Twelve Wise Masters, in huge folios sang and laughed. 

But his house is now an ale-house, with a nicely sanded floor, 
And a garland in the window, and his face above the door; 40 

Painted by some humble artist, as in Adam Puschman's song, 
As the old man gray and dove-like, with his great beard white and long. 

And at night the swart mechanic comes to drown his cark and care, 
Quaffing ale from pewter tankards, in the master's antique chair. 

Vanished is the ancient splendor, and before my dreamy eye 45 
Wave these mingled shapes and figures, like a faded tapestry. 

Not thy Councils, not thy Kaisers, win for thee the world's regard; 
But thy painter, Albrecht D¨¹rer, and Hans Sachs, thy cobbler bard. 

Thus, O Nuremberg, a wanderer from a region far away, 
As he paced thy streets and court-yards, sang in thought his careless lay: 50 

Gathering from the pavement's crevice, as a floweret of the soil, 
The nobility of labor,¡ªthe long pedigree of toil.
Written by Emily Dickinson | Create an image from this poem

Who saw no Sunrise cannot say

 Who saw no Sunrise cannot say
The Countenance 'twould be.
Who guess at seeing, guess at loss
Of the Ability.

The Emigrant of Light, it is
Afflicted for the Day.
The Blindness that beheld and blest --
And could not find its Eye.
Written by Carl Sandburg | Create an image from this poem

White Ash

 THERE is a woman on Michigan Boulevard keeps a parrot and goldfish and two white mice.

She used to keep a houseful of girls in kimonos and three pushbuttons on the front door.

Now she is alone with a parrot and goldfish and two white mice … but these are some of her thoughts:

The love of a soldier on furlough or a sailor on shore leave burns with a bonfire red and saffron.

The love of an emigrant workman whose wife is a thousand miles away burns with a blue smoke.

The love of a young man whose sweetheart married an older man for money burns with a sputtering uncertain flame.

And there is a love … one in a thousand … burns clean and is gone leaving a white ash.…

And this is a thought she never explains to the parrot and goldfish and two white mice.
Written by Carl Sandburg | Create an image from this poem

Chicks

 THE CHICK in the egg picks at the shell, cracks open one oval world, and enters another oval world.

“Cheep … cheep … cheep” is the salutation of the newcomer, the emigrant, the casual at the gates of the new world.

“Cheep … cheep” … from oval to oval, sunset to sunset, star to star.

It is at the door of this house, this teeny weeny eggshell exit, it is here men say a riddle and jeer each other: who are you? where do you go from here?

(In the academies many books, at the circus many sacks of peanuts, at the club rooms many cigar butts.)

“Cheep … cheep” … from oval to oval, sunset to sunset, star to star.


Written by Emily Dickinson | Create an image from this poem

Away from Home are some and I --

 Away from Home are some and I --
An Emigrant to be
In a Metropolis of Homes
Is easy, possibly --

The Habit of a Foreign Sky
We -- difficult -- acquire
As Children, who remain in Face
The more their Feet retire.

Book: Reflection on the Important Things