Best Famous Prohibits Poems

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

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Written by Lewis Carroll | Create an image from this poem

Phantasmagoria CANTO II ( Hys Fyve Rules )

 "MY First - but don't suppose," he said,
"I'm setting you a riddle -
Is - if your Victim be in bed,
Don't touch the curtains at his head,
But take them in the middle, 

"And wave them slowly in and out,
While drawing them asunder;
And in a minute's time, no doubt,
He'll raise his head and look about
With eyes of wrath and wonder. 

"And here you must on no pretence
Make the first observation.
Wait for the Victim to commence:
No Ghost of any common sense
Begins a conversation. 

"If he should say 'HOW CAME YOU HERE?'
(The way that YOU began, Sir,)
In such a case your course is clear -
'ON THE BAT'S BACK, MY LITTLE DEAR!'
Is the appropriate answer. 

"If after this he says no more,
You'd best perhaps curtail your
Exertions - go and shake the door,
And then, if he begins to snore,
You'll know the thing's a failure. 

"By day, if he should be alone -
At home or on a walk -
You merely give a hollow groan,
To indicate the kind of tone
In which you mean to talk. 

"But if you find him with his friends,
The thing is rather harder.
In such a case success depends
On picking up some candle-ends,
Or butter, in the larder. 

"With this you make a kind of slide
(It answers best with suet),
On which you must contrive to glide,
And swing yourself from side to side -
One soon learns how to do it. 

"The Second tells us what is right
In ceremonious calls:-
'FIRST BURN A BLUE OR CRIMSON LIGHT'
(A thing I quite forgot to-night),
'THEN SCRATCH THE DOOR OR WALLS.'" 

I said "You'll visit HERE no more,
If you attempt the Guy.
I'll have no bonfires on MY floor -
And, as for scratching at the door,
I'd like to see you try!" 

"The Third was written to protect
The interests of the Victim,
And tells us, as I recollect,
TO TREAT HIM WITH A GRAVE RESPECT,
AND NOT TO CONTRADICT HIM." 

"That's plain," said I, "as Tare and Tret,
To any comprehension:
I only wish SOME Ghosts I've met
Would not so CONSTANTLY forget
The maxim that you mention!" 

"Perhaps," he said, "YOU first transgressed
The laws of hospitality:
All Ghosts instinctively detest
The Man that fails to treat his guest
With proper cordiality. 

"If you address a Ghost as 'Thing!'
Or strike him with a hatchet,
He is permitted by the King
To drop all FORMAL parleying -
And then you're SURE to catch it! 

"The Fourth prohibits trespassing
Where other Ghosts are quartered:
And those convicted of the thing
(Unless when pardoned by the King)
Must instantly be slaughtered. 

"That simply means 'be cut up small':
Ghosts soon unite anew.
The process scarcely hurts at all -
Not more than when YOU're what you call
'Cut up' by a Review. 

"The Fifth is one you may prefer
That I should quote entire:-
THE KING MUST BE ADDRESSED AS 'SIR.'
THIS, FROM A SIMPLE COURTIER,
IS ALL THE LAWS REQUIRE: 

"BUT, SHOULD YOU WISH TO DO THE THING
WITH OUT-AND-OUT POLITENESS,
ACCOST HIM AS 'MY GOBLIN KING!
AND ALWAYS USE, IN ANSWERING,
THE PHRASE 'YOUR ROYAL WHITENESS!' 

"I'm getting rather hoarse, I fear,
After so much reciting :
So, if you don't object, my dear,
We'll try a glass of bitter beer -
I think it looks inviting."

Written by Andrew Marvell | Create an image from this poem

To His Noble Friend Mr. Richard Lovelace Upon His Poems

 Sir, 
Our times are much degenerate from those 
Which your sweet muse with your fair fortune chose, 
And as complexions alter with the climes, 
Our wits have drawn the infection of our times. 
That candid age no other way could tell 
To be ingenious, but by speaking well. 
Who best could praise had then the greatest praise, 
'Twas more esteemed to give than bear the bays: 
Modest ambition studied only then 
To honour not herself but worthy men. 
These virtues now are banished out of town, 
Our Civil Wars have lost the civic crown. 
He highest builds, who with most art destroys, 
And against others' fame his own employs. 
I see the envious caterpillar sit 
On the fair blossom of each growing wit. 

The air's already tainted with the swarms 
Of insects which against you rise in arms: 
Word-peckers, paper-rats, book-scorpions, 
Of wit corrupted, the unfashioned sons. 
The barb?d censurers begin to look 
Like the grim consistory on thy book; 
And on each line cast a reforming eye, 
Severer than the young presbytery. 
Till when in vain they have thee all perused, 
You shall, for being faultless, be accused. 
Some reading your Lucasta will allege 
You wronged in her the House's privelege. 
Some that you under sequestration are, 
And one the book prohibits, because Kent 
Their first petition by the author sent. 

But when the beauteous ladies came to know 
That their dear Lovelace was endangered so: 
Lovelace that thawed the most congeal?d breast -- 
He who loved best and them defended best, 
Whose hand so rudely grasps the steely brand, 
Whose hand most gently melts the lady's hand -- 
They all in mutiny though yet undressed 
Sallied, and would in his defence contest. 
And one, the loveliest that was yet e'er seen, 
Thinking that I too of the rout had been, 
Mine eyes invaded with a female spite, 
(She knew what pain 'twould cause to lose that sight.) 
`O no, mistake not,' I replied, `for I 
In your defence, or in his cause, would die.' 
But he, secure of glory and of time, 
Above their envy, or mine aid, doth climb. 
Him valiant'st men and fairest nymphs approve; 
His book in them finds judgement, with you love.
Written by Omar Khayyam | Create an image from this poem

Oh! where is that one whose lips are of rubies, where

Oh! where is that one whose lips are of rubies, where
that precious stone of Bedekhchan? Where is that wine
full of perfume which gives repose to the soul? They
say that the religion of Islam prohibits it; drink, friend,
and have no fear, for where do you see Islam?
Written by Francesco Petrarch | Create an image from this poem

Sonnet XLIX

SONNET XLIX.

Se voi poteste per turbati segni.

HE ENTREATS LAURA NOT TO HATE THE HEART FROM WHICH SHE CAN NEVER BE ABSENT.

If, but by angry and disdainful sign,By the averted head and downcast sight,By readiness beyond thy sex for flight,Deaf to all pure and worthy prayers of mine,Thou canst, by these or other arts of thine,'Scape from my breast—where Love on slip so slightGrafts every day new boughs—of such despiteA fitting cause I then might well divine:For gentle plant in arid soil to beSeems little suited: so it better were,And this e'en nature dictates, thence to stir.But since thy destiny prohibits theeElsewhere to dwell, be this at least thy careNot always to sojourn in hatred there.
Macgregor.
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