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Best Famous Forelock Poems

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

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Written by Carl Sandburg | Create an image from this poem

Remorse

 THE HORSE’S name was Remorse.
There were people said, “Gee, what a nag!”
And they were Edgar Allan Poe bugs and so
They called him Remorse.

 When he was a gelding
He flashed his heels to other ponies
And threw dust in the noses of other ponies
And won his first race and his second
And another and another and hardly ever
Came under the wire behind the other runners.

And so, Remorse, who is gone, was the hero of a play
By Henry Blossom, who is now gone.

What is there to a monicker? Call me anything.
A nut, a cheese, something that the cat brought in.
 Nick me with any old name.
Class me up for a fish, a gorilla, a slant head, an egg, a ham.
Only … slam me across the ears sometimes … and hunt for a white star
In my forehead and twist the bang of my forelock around it.
Make a wish for me. Maybe I will light out like a streak of wind.


Written by John Lindley | Create an image from this poem

Darkies

 “I’d rather make $700 a week playing a maid than earn $7 a day being a maid”. Hattie McDaniel.

I’m the savage in the jungle
and the busboy in the town.
I’m the one who jumps the highest 
when the Boss man comes around.

I’m the maid who wields the wooden broom.
I’m the black boot polish cheeks.
I’m the big fat Lawdy Mama
who always laughs before she speaks.

I’m the plaintive sound of spirituals
on the mighty Mississip’.
I’m the porter in the club car
touching forelock for a tip.

I’m the bent, white-whiskered ol’ Black Joe 
with the stick and staggered walk.
I’m the barefoot boy in dungarees
with a stammer in my talk.

I’m the storytelling Mr. Bones
with a jangling tambourine.
I’m the North’s excuse for novelty
and the South’s deleted scene.

I’m the one who takes his lunch break
with the extras and the grips.
I’m the funny liquorice coils of hair
and the funny looking lips.

I’m the white wide eyes and pearly teeth.
I’m the jet black skin that shines.
I’m the soft-shoe shuffling Uncle Tom
for your nickels and your dimes.

I’m the Alabami Mammy
for a state I’ve never seen.
I’m the bona fide Minstrel Man
whose blackface won’t wash clean.

I’m the banjo playing Sambo
with a fixed and manic grin.
I’m the South’s defiant answer
that the Yankees didn’t win.


I’m the inconvenient nigrah
that no one can let go.
I’m the cutesy picaninny
with my hair tied up in bows.

I’m the funny little shoeshine boy.
I’m the convict on the run;
the ****** in the woodpile 
when the cotton pickin’s done.

I’m a blacklist in Kentucky.
I’m the night when hound dogs bay.
I’m the cut-price, easy light relief
growing darker by the day.

I’m the “yessir, Massa, right away”
that the audience so enjoys.
I’m the full-grown man of twenty-five
but still they call me ‘boy’.

For I’m the myth in Griffith’s movie.
I’m the steamboat whistle’s cry.
I’m the dust of dead plantations
and the proof of Lincoln’s lie.

I’m the skin upon the leg iron.
I’m the blood upon the club.
I’m the deep black stain you can’t erase
no matter how you scrub.



 John Lindley
Written by Gerard Manley Hopkins | Create an image from this poem

On the Portrait of Two Beautiful Young People

 A Brother and Sister


O I admire and sorrow! The heart’s eye grieves 
Discovering you, dark tramplers, tyrant years. 
A juice rides rich through bluebells, in vine leaves, 
And beauty’s dearest veriest vein is tears. 

Happy the father, mother of these! Too fast:
Not that, but thus far, all with frailty, blest 
In one fair fall; but, for time’s aftercast, 
Creatures all heft, hope, hazard, interest. 

And are they thus? The fine, the fingering beams
Their young delightful hour do feature down
That fleeted else like day-dissolv?d dreams 
Or ringlet-race on burling Barrow brown. 

She leans on him with such contentment fond 
As well the sister sits, would well the wife; 
His looks, the soul’s own letters, see beyond,
Gaze on, and fall directly forth on life. 

But ah, bright forelock, cluster that you are 
Of favoured make and mind and health and youth, 
Where lies your landmark, seamark, or soul’s star? 
There’s none but truth can stead you. Christ is truth.

There ’s none but good can b? good, both for you 
And what sways with you, maybe this sweet maid; 
None good but God—a warning wav?d to 
One once that was found wanting when Good weighed. 

Man lives that list, that leaning in the will
No wisdom can forecast by gauge or guess, 
The selfless self of self, most strange, most still, 
Fast furled and all foredrawn to No or Yes. 

Your feast of; that most in you earnest eye 
May but call on your banes to more carouse.
Worst will the best. What worm was here, we cry, 
To have havoc-pocked so, see, the hung-heavenward boughs?

Enough: corruption was the world’s first woe. 
What need I strain my heart beyond my ken? 
O but I bear my burning witness though
Against the wild and wanton work of men.
. . . . . . .
Written by Rudyard Kipling | Create an image from this poem

White Horses

 Where run your colts at pasture?
 Where hide your mares to breed?
'Mid bergs about the Ice-cap
 Or wove Sargasso weed;
By chartless reef and channel,
 Or crafty coastwise bars,
But most the ocean-meadows
 All purple to the stars!

Who holds the rein upon you?
 The latest gale let free.
What meat is in your mangers?
 The glut of all the sea.
'Twixt tide and tide's returning
 Great store of newly dead, --
The bones of those that faced us,
 And the hearts of those that fled.
Afar, off-shore and single,
 Some stallion, rearing swift,
Neighs hungry for new fodder,
 And calls us to the drift:
Then down the cloven ridges --
 A million hooves unshod --
Break forth the mad White Horses
 To seek their meat from God!

Girth-deep in hissing water
 Our furious vanguard strains --
Through mist of mighty tramplings
 Roll up the fore-blown manes --
A hundred leagues to leeward,
 Ere yet the deep is stirred,
The groaning rollers carry
 The coming of the herd!

Whose hand may grip your nostrils --
 Your forelock who may hold?
E'en they that use the broads with us --
 The riders bred and bold,
That spy upon our matings,
 That rope us where we run --
They know the strong White Horses
 From father unto son.

We breathe about their cradles,
 We race their babes ashore,
We snuff against their thresholds,
 We nuzzle at their door;
By day with stamping squadrons,
 By night in whinnying droves,
Creep up the wise White Horses,
 To call them from their loves.

And come they for your calling?
 No wit of man may save.
They hear the loosed White Horses
 Above their fathers' grave;
And, kin of those we crippled,
 And, sons of those we slew,
Spur down the wild white riders
 To school the herds anew.

What service have ye paid them,
 Oh jealous steeds and strong?
Save we that throw their weaklings,
 Is none dare work them wrong;
While thick around the homestead
 Our snow-backed leaders graze --
A guard behind their plunder,
 And a veil before their ways.

With march and countermarchings --
 With weight of wheeling hosts --
Stray mob or bands embattled --
 We ring the chosen coasts:
And, careless of our clamour
 That bids the stranger fly,
At peace with our pickets
 The wild white riders lie.

 . . . .

Trust ye that curdled hollows --
 Trust ye the neighing wind --
Trust ye the moaning groundswell --
 Our herds are close behind!
To bray your foeman's armies --
 To chill and snap his sword --
Trust ye the wild White Horses,
 The Horses of the Lord!
Written by Gerard Manley Hopkins | Create an image from this poem

The Loss Of The Eurydice

 Foundered March 24. 1878


 1

The Eurydice—it concerned thee, O Lord:
Three hundred souls, O alas! on board,
 Some asleep unawakened, all un-
warned, eleven fathoms fallen 

 2

Where she foundered! One stroke
Felled and furled them, the hearts of oak!
 And flockbells off the aerial
Downs' forefalls beat to the burial. 

 3

For did she pride her, freighted fully, on
Bounden bales or a hoard of bullion?—
 Precious passing measure,
Lads and men her lade and treasure. 

 4

She had come from a cruise, training seamen—
Men, boldboys soon to be men:
 Must it, worst weather,
Blast bole and bloom together? 

 5

No Atlantic squall overwrought her
Or rearing billow of the Biscay water:
 Home was hard at hand
And the blow bore from land. 

 6

And you were a liar, O blue March day.
Bright sun lanced fire in the heavenly bay;
 But what black Boreas wrecked her? he
Came equipped, deadly-electric, 

 7

A beetling baldbright cloud thorough England
Riding: there did stores not mingle? and
 Hailropes hustle and grind their
Heavengravel? wolfsnow, worlds of it, wind there? 

 8

Now Carisbrook keep goes under in gloom;
Now it overvaults Appledurcombe;
 Now near by Ventnor town
It hurls, hurls off Boniface Down. 

 9

Too proud, too proud, what a press she bore!
Royal, and all her royals wore.
 Sharp with her, shorten sail!
Too late; lost; gone with the gale. 

 10

This was that fell capsize,
As half she had righted and hoped to rise
 Death teeming in by her portholes
Raced down decks, round messes of mortals. 

 11

Then a lurch forward, frigate and men;
'All hands for themselves' the cry ran then;
 But she who had housed them thither
Was around them, bound them or wound them with her. 

 12

Marcus Hare, high her captain,
Kept to her—care-drowned and wrapped in
 Cheer's death, would follow
His charge through the champ-white water-in-a-wallow, 

 13

All under Channel to bury in a beach her
Cheeks: Right, rude of feature,
 He thought he heard say
'Her commander! and thou too, and thou this way.' 

 14

It is even seen, time's something server,
In mankind's medley a duty-swerver,
 At downright 'No or yes?'
Doffs all, drives full for righteousness. 

 15

Sydney Fletcher, Bristol-bred,
(Low lie his mates now on watery bed)
 Takes to the seas and snows
As sheer down the ship goes. 

 16

Now her afterdraught gullies him too down;
Now he wrings for breath with the deathgush brown;
 Till a lifebelt and God's will
Lend him a lift from the sea-swill. 

 17

Now he shoots short up to the round air;
Now he gasps, now he gazes everywhere;
 But his eye no cliff, no coast or
Mark makes in the rivelling snowstorm. 

 18

Him, after an hour of wintry waves,
A schooner sights, with another, and saves,
 And he boards her in Oh! such joy
He has lost count what came next, poor boy.—

 19

They say who saw one sea-corpse cold
He was all of lovely manly mould,
 Every inch a tar,
Of the best we boast our sailors are. 

 20

Look, foot to forelock, how all things suit! he
Is strung by duty, is strained to beauty,
 And brown-as-dawning-skinned
With brine and shine and whirling wind. 

 21

O his nimble finger, his gnarled grip!
Leagues, leagues of seamanship
 Slumber in these forsaken
Bones, this sinew, and will not waken. 

 22

He was but one like thousands more,
Day and night I deplore
 My people and born own nation,
Fast foundering own generation. 

 23

I might let bygones be—our curse
Of ruinous shrine no hand or, worse,
 Robbery's hand is busy to
Dress, hoar-hallowèd shrines unvisited; 

 24

Only the breathing temple and fleet
Life, this wildworth blown so sweet,
 These daredeaths, ay this crew, in
Unchrist, all rolled in ruin—

 25

Deeply surely I need to deplore it,
Wondering why my master bore it,
 The riving off that race
So at home, time was, to his truth and grace 

 26

That a starlight-wender of ours would say
The marvellous Milk was Walsingham Way
 And one—but let be, let be:
More, more than was will yet be.—

 27

O well wept, mother have lost son;
Wept, wife; wept, sweetheart would be one:
 Though grief yield them no good
Yet shed what tears sad truelove should. 

 28

But to Christ lord of thunder
Crouch; lay knee by earth low under:
 'Holiest, loveliest, bravest,
Save my hero, O Hero savest. 

 29

And the prayer thou hearst me making
Have, at the awful overtaking,
 Heard; have heard and granted
Grace that day grace was wanted.' 

 30

Not that hell knows redeeming,
But for souls sunk in seeming
 Fresh, till doomfire burn all,
Prayer shall fetch pity eternal.


Written by Edmund Spenser | Create an image from this poem

Whilst it is prime

FRESH Spring, the herald of loves mighty king, 
In whose cote-armour richly are displayd 
All sorts of flowers, the which on earth do spring, 
In goodly colours gloriously arrayd¡ª 
Goe to my love, where she is carelesse layd, 5 
Yet in her winters bowre not well awake; 
Tell her the joyous time wil not be staid, 
Unlesse she doe him by the forelock take; 
Bid her therefore her selfe soone ready make, 
To wayt on Love amongst his lovely crew; 10 
Where every one, that misseth then her make, 
Shall be by him amearst with penance dew. 
Make hast, therefore, sweet love, whilest it is prime; 
For none can call againe the pass¨¨d time.  


GLOSS: make] mate.
Written by Edmund Spenser | Create an image from this poem

Sonnet LXX

 FResh spring the herald of loues mighty king,
In whose cote armour richly are displayd,
all sorts of flowers the which on earth do spring
in goodly colours gloriously arrayd.
Goe to my loue, where she is carelesse layd,
yet in her winters bowre not well awake:
tell her the ioyous time wil not be staid
vnlesse she doe him by the forelock take.
Bid her therefore her selfe soone ready make,
to wayt on loue amongst his louely crew:
where euery one that misseth then her make,
shall be by him amearst with penance dew.
Make hast therefore sweet loue, whilest it is prime,
for none can call againe the passed time.

Book: Reflection on the Important Things