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Best Famous Petrifying Poems

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

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Written by Mary Darby Robinson | Create an image from this poem

Ode to Envy

 Deep in th' abyss where frantic horror bides, 
In thickest mists of vapours fell,
Where wily Serpents hissing glare
And the dark Demon of Revenge resides,
At midnight's murky hour
Thy origin began: 
Rapacious MALICE was thy sire;
Thy Dam the sullen witch, Despair;
Thy Nurse, insatiate Ire.
The FATES conspir'd their ills to twine, About thy heart's infected shrine; They gave thee each disastrous spell, Each desolating pow'r, To blast the fairest hopes of man.
Soon as thy fatal birth was known, From her unhallow'd throne With ghastly smile pale Hecate sprung; Thy hideous form the Sorc'ress press'd With kindred fondness to her breast; Her haggard eye Short forth a ray of transient joy, Whilst thro' th' infernal shades exulting clamours rung.
Above thy fellow fiends thy tyrant hand Grasp'd with resistless force supreme command: The dread terrific crowd Before thy iron sceptre bow'd.
Now, seated in thy ebon cave, Around thy throne relentless furies rave: A wreath of ever-wounding thorn Thy scowling brows encompass round, Thy heart by knawing Vultures torn, Thy meagre limbs with deathless scorpions bound.
Thy black associates, torpid IGNORANCE, And pining JEALOUSY­with eye askance, With savage rapture execute thy will, And strew the paths of life with every torturing ill Nor can the sainted dead escape thy rage; Thy vengeance haunts the silent grave, Thy taunts insult the ashes of the brave; While proud AMBITION weeps thy rancour to assuage.
The laurels round the POET's bust, Twin'd by the liberal hand of Taste, By thy malignant grasp defac'd, Fade to their native dust: Thy ever-watchful eye no labour tires, Beneath thy venom'd touch the angel TRUTH expires.
When in thy petrifying car Thy scaly dragons waft thy form, Then, swifter, deadlier far Than the keen lightning's lance, That wings its way across the yelling storm, Thy barbed shafts fly whizzing round, While every with'ring glance Inflicts a cureless wound.
Thy giant arm with pond'rous blow Hurls genius from her glorious height, Bends the fair front of Virtue low, And meanly pilfers every pure delight.
Thy hollow voice the sense appalls, Thy vigilance the mind enthralls; Rest hast thou none,­by night, by day, Thy jealous ardour seeks for prey­ Nought can restrain thy swift career; Thy smile derides the suff'rer's wrongs; Thy tongue the sland'rers tale prolongs; Thy thirst imbibes the victim's tear; Thy breast recoils from friendship's flame; Sick'ning thou hear'st the trump of Fame; Worth gives to thee, the direst pang; The Lover's rapture wounds thy heart, The proudest efforts of prolific art Shrink from thy poisonous fang.
In vain the Sculptor's lab'ring hand Calls fine proportion from the Parian stone; In vain the Minstrel's chords command The soft vibrations of seraphic tone; For swift thy violating arm Tears from perfection ev'ry charm; Nor rosy YOUTH, nor BEAUTY's smiles Thy unrelenting rage beguiles, Thy breath contaminates the fairest name, And binds the guiltless brow with ever-blist'ring shame.


Written by Mary Darby Robinson | Create an image from this poem

Ode to Despair

 TERRIFIC FIEND! thou Monster fell, 
Condemn'd in haunts profane to dwell, 
Why quit thy solitary Home, 
O'er wide Creation's paths to roam? 
Pale Tyrant of the timid Heart, 
Whose visionary spells can bind 
The strongest passions of the mind, 
Freezing Life's current with thy baneful Art.
Nature recoils when thou art near, For round thy form all plagues are seen; Thine is the frantic tone, the sullen mien, The glance of petrifying fear, The haggard Brow, the low'ring Eye, The hollow Cheek, the smother'd Sigh, When thy usurping fangs assail, The sacred Bonds of Friendship fail.
Meek-bosom'd Pity sues in vain; Imperious Sorrow spurns relief, Feeds on the luxury of Grief, Drinks the hot Tear, and hugs the galling Chain.
AH! plunge no more thy ruthless dart, In the dark centre of the guilty Heart; The POW'R SUPREME, with pitying eye, Looks on the erring Child of Misery; MERCY arrests the wing of Time; To expiate the wretch's crime; Insulted HEAV'N consign'd thy brand To the first Murd'rer's crimson hand.
Swift o'er the earth the Monster flew, And round th' ensanguin'd Poisons threw, By CONSCIENCE goaded­driven by FEAR, Till the meek Cherub HOPE subdued his fell career.
Thy Reign is past, when erst the brave Imbib'd contagion o'er the midnight lamp, Close pent in loathsome cells, where poisons damp Hung round the confines of a Living Grave; * Where no glimm'ring ray illum'd The flinty walls, where pond'rous chains Bound the wan Victim to the humid earth, Where VALOUR, GENIUS, TASTE, and WORTH, In pestilential caves entomb'd, Sought thy cold arms, and smiling mock'd their pains.
THERE,­each procrastinated hour The woe-worn suff'rer gasping lay, While by his side in proud array Stalk'd the HUGE FIEND, DESPOTIC POW'R.
There REASON clos'd her radiant eye, And fainting HOPE retir'd to die, Truth shrunk appall'd, In spells of icy Apathy enthrall'd; Till FREEDOM spurn'd the ignominious chain, And roused from Superstition's night, Exulting Nature claim'd her right, And call'd dire Vengeance from her dark domain.
Now take thy solitary flight Amid the turbid gales of night, Where Spectres starting from the tomb, Glide along th' impervious gloom; Or, stretch'd upon the sea-beat shore, Let the wild winds, as they roar, Rock Thee on thy Bed of Stone; Or, in gelid caverns pent, Listen to the sullen moan Of subterranean winds;­or glut thy sight Where stupendous mountains rent Hurl their vast fragments from their dizzy height.
At Thy approach the rifted Pine Shall o'er the shatter'd Rock incline, Whose trembling brow, with wild weeds drest, Frowns on the tawny EAGLE's nest; THERE enjoy the 'witching hour, And freeze in Frenzy's dire conceit, Or seek the Screech-owl's lone retreat, On the bleak rampart of some nodding Tow'r.
In some forest long and drear, Tempt the fierce BANDITTI's rage, War with famish'd Tygers wage, And mock the taunts of Fear.
When across the yawning deep, The Demons of the Tempest sweep, Or deaf'ning Thunders bursting cast Their red bolts on the shivering mast, While fix'd below the sea-boy stands, As threat'ning Death his soul dismays, He lifts his supplicating hands, And shrieks, and groans, and weeps, and prays, Till lost amid the floating fire The agonizing crew expire; THEN let thy transports rend the air, For mad'ning Anguish feeds DESPAIR.
When o'er the couch of pale Disease The MOTHER bends, with tearful eye, And trembles, lest her quiv'ring sigh, Should wake the darling of her breast, Now, by the taper's feeble rays, She steals a last, fond, eager gaze.
Ah, hapless Parent! gaze no more, Thy CHERUB soars among the Blest, Life's crimson Fount begins to freeze, His transitory scene is o'er.
She starts­she raves­her burning brain, Consumes, unconscious of its fires, Dead to the Heart's convulsive Pain, Bewilder'd Memory retires.
See! See! she grasps her flowing hair, From her fix'd eye the big drops roll, Her proud Affliction mocks controul, And riots in DESPAIR, Such are thy haunts, malignant Pow'r, There all thy murd'rous Poisons pour; But come not near my calm retreat, Where Peace and holy FRIENDSHIP meet; Where SCIENCE sheds a gentle ray, And guiltless Mirth beguiles the day, Where Bliss congenial to the MUSE Shall round my Heart her sweets diffuse, Where, from each restless Passion free, I give my noiseless hours, BLESS'D POETRY, TO THEE.
Written by Eamon Grennan | Create an image from this poem

Cold Morning

 Through an accidental crack in the curtain
I can see the eight o'clock light change from
charcoal to a faint gassy blue, inventing things

in the morning that has a thick skin of ice on it
as the water tank has, so nothing flows, all is bone,
telling its tale of how hard the night had to be

for any heart caught out in it, just flesh and blood
no match for the mindless chill that's settled in,
a great stone bird, its wings stretched stiff

from the tip of Letter Hill to the cobbled bay, its gaze
glacial, its hook-and-scrabble claws fast clamped
on every window, its petrifying breath a cage

in which all the warmth we were is shivering.

Book: Shattered Sighs