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Best Famous Halve Poems

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

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Written by William Butler Yeats | Create an image from this poem

Towards Break Of Day

 Was it the double of my dream
The woman that by me lay
Dreamed, or did we halve a dream
Under the first cold gleam of day?

I thought: "There is a waterfall
Upon Ben Bulben side
That all my childhood counted dear;
Were I to travel far and wide
I could not find a thing so dear.
' My memories had magnified So many times childish delight.
I would have touched it like a child But knew my finger could but have touched Cold stone and water.
I grew wild.
Even accusing Heaven because It had set down among its laws: Nothing that we love over-much Is ponderable to our touch.
I dreamed towards break of day, The cold blown spray in my nostril.
But she that beside me lay Had watched in bitterer sleep The marvellous stag of Arthur, That lofty white stag, leap From mountain steep to steep.


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

Penmaen Pool

 For the Visitors' Book at the Inn


Who long for rest, who look for pleasure
Away from counter, court, or school
O where live well your lease of leisure
But here at, here at Penmaen Pool? 
You'll dare the Alp? you'll dart the skiff?— 
Each sport has here its tackle and tool:
Come, plant the staff by Cadair cliff;
Come, swing the sculls on Penmaen Pool.
What's yonder?— Grizzled Dyphwys dim: The triple-hummocked Giant's stool, Hoar messmate, hobs and nobs with him To halve the bowl of Penmaen Pool.
And all the landscape under survey, At tranquil turns, by nature's rule, Rides repeated topsyturvy In frank, in fairy Penmaen Pool.
And Charles's Wain, the wondrous seven, And sheep-flock clouds like worlds of wool, For all they shine so, high in heaven, Shew brighter shaken in Penmaen Pool.
The Mawddach, how she trips! though throttled If floodtide teeming thrills her full, And mazy sands all water-wattled Waylay her at ebb, past Penmaen Pool.
But what's to see in stormy weather, When grey showers gather and gusts are cool?— Why, raindrop-roundels looped together That lace the face of Penmaen Pool.
Then even in weariest wintry hour Of New Year's month or surly Yule Furred snows, charged tuft above tuft, tower From darksome darksome Penmaen Pool.
And ever, if bound here hardest home, You've parlour-pastime left and (who'll Not honour it?) ale like goldy foam That frocks an oar in Penmaen Pool.
Then come who pine for peace or pleasure Away from counter, court, or school, Spend here your measure of time and treasure And taste the treats of Penmaen Pool.