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Best Famous Overran Poems

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

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

Belisarius

 I am poor and old and blind;
The sun burns me, and the wind
Blows through the city gate
And covers me with dust
From the wheels of the august
Justinian the Great.
It was for him I chased The Persians o'er wild and waste, As General of the East; Night after night I lay In their camps of yesterday; Their forage was my feast.
For him, with sails of red, And torches at mast-head, Piloting the great fleet, I swept the Afric coasts And scattered the Vandal hosts, Like dust in a windy street.
For him I won again The Ausonian realm and reign, Rome and Parthenope; And all the land was mine From the summits of Apennine To the shores of either sea.
For him, in my feeble age, I dared the battle's rage, To save Byzantium's state, When the tents of Zabergan, Like snow-drifts overran The road to the Golden Gate.
And for this, for this, behold! Infirm and blind and old, With gray, uncovered head, Beneath the very arch Of my triumphal march, I stand and beg my bread! Methinks I still can hear, Sounding distinct and near, The Vandal monarch's cry, As, captive and disgraced, With majestic step he paced,-- "All, all is Vanity!" Ah! vainest of all things Is the gratitude of kings; The plaudits of the crowd Are but the clatter of feet At midnight in the street, Hollow and restless and loud.
But the bitterest disgrace Is to see forever the face Of the Monk of Ephesus! The unconquerable will This, too, can bear;--I still Am Belisarius!


Written by Edwin Arlington Robinson | Create an image from this poem

The Tavern

 Whenever I go by there nowadays 
And look at the rank weeds and the strange grass, 
The torn blue curtains and the broken glass, 
I seem to be afraid of the old place; 
And something stiffens up and down my face,
For all the world as if I saw the ghost 
Of old Ham Amory, the murdered host, 
With his dead eyes turned on me all aglaze.
The Tavern has a story, but no man Can tell us what it is.
We only know That once long after midnight, years ago, A stranger galloped up from Tilbury Town, Who brushed, and scared, and all but overran That skirt-crazed reprobate, John Evereldown.

Book: Shattered Sighs