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Best Famous Raindrop Poems

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

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Written by Adrienne Rich | Create an image from this poem

For the Record

 The clouds and the stars didn't wage this war
the brooks gave no information
if the mountain spewed stones of fire into the river
it was not taking sides
the raindrop faintly swaying under the leaf
had no political opinions

and if here or there a house
filled with backed-up raw sewage
or poisoned those who lived there
with slow fumes, over years
the houses were not at war
nor did the tinned-up buildings

intend to refuse shelter
to homeless old women and roaming children
they had no policy to keep them roaming
or dying, no, the cities were not the problem
the bridges were non-partisan
the freeways burned, but not with hatred

Even the miles of barbed-wire
stretched around crouching temporary huts
designed to keep the unwanted
at a safe distance, out of sight
even the boards that had to absorb
year upon year, so many human sounds

so many depths of vomit, tears
slow-soaking blood
had not offered themselves for this
The trees didn't volunteer to be cut into boards
nor the thorns for tearing flesh
Look around at all of it

and ask whose signature 
is stamped on the orders, traced
in the corner of the building plans
Ask where the illiterate, big-bellied
women were, the drunks and crazies,
the ones you fear most of all: ask where you were.


Written by Conrad Aiken | Create an image from this poem

Beloved Let Us Once More Praise The Rain

 Beloved, let us once more praise the rain. 
Let us discover some new alphabet, 
For this, the often praised; and be ourselves, 
The rain, the chickweed, and the burdock leaf, 
The green-white privet flower, the spotted stone, 
And all that welcomes the rain; the sparrow too,—
Who watches with a hard eye from seclusion, 
Beneath the elm-tree bough, till rain is done. 
There is an oriole who, upside down, 
Hangs at his nest, and flicks an orange wing,—
Under a tree as dead and still as lead; 
There is a single leaf, in all this heaven 
Of leaves, which rain has loosened from its twig: 
The stem breaks, and it falls, but it is caught 
Upon a sister leaf, and thus she hangs; 
There is an acorn cup, beside a mushroom 
Which catches three drops from the stooping cloud. 
The timid bee goes back to the hive; the fly 
Under the broad leaf of the hollyhock 
Perpends stupid with cold; the raindark snail 
Surveys the wet world from a watery stone... 
And still the syllables of water whisper: 
The wheel of cloud whirs slowly: while we wait 
In the dark room; and in your heart I find 
One silver raindrop,—on a hawthorn leaf,— 
Orion in a cobweb, and the World.
Written by Friedrich von Schiller | Create an image from this poem

Parables And Riddles

 I.

A bridge of pearls its form uprears
High o'er a gray and misty sea;
E'en in a moment it appears,
And rises upwards giddily.

Beneath its arch can find a road
The loftiest vessel's mast most high,
Itself hath never borne a load,
And seems, when thou draw'st near, to fly.

It comes first with the stream, and goes
Soon as the watery flood is dried.
Where may be found this bridge, disclose,
And who its beauteous form supplied!

II.

It bears thee many a mile away,
And yet its place it changes ne'er;
It has no pinions to display,
And yet conducts thee through the air.

It is the bark of swiftest motion
That every weary wanderer bore;
With speed of thought the greatest ocean
It carries thee in safety o'er;
One moment wafts thee to the shore.

III.

Upon a spacious meadow play
Thousands of sheep, of silvery hue;
And as we see them move to-day,
The man most aged saw them too.

They ne'er grow old, and, from a rill
That never dries, their life is drawn;
A shepherd watches o'er them still,
With curved and beauteous silver horn.

He drives them out through gates of gold,
And every night their number counts;
Yet ne'er has lost, of all his fold,
One lamb, though oft that path he mounts.

A hound attends him faithfully,
A nimble ram precedes the way;
Canst thou point out that flock to me,
And who the shepherd, canst thou say?

IV.

There stands a dwelling, vast and tall,
On unseen columns fair;
No wanderer treads or leaves its hall,
And none can linger there.

Its wondrous structure first was planned
With art no mortal knows;
It lights the lamps with its own hand
'Mongst which it brightly glows.

It has a roof, as crystal bright,
Formed of one gem of dazzling light;
Yet mortal eye has ne'er
Seen Him who placed it there.

V.

Within a well two buckets lie,
One mounts, and one descends;
When one is full, and rises high,
The other downward wends.

They wander ever to and fro--
Now empty are, now overflow.
If to the mouth thou liftest this,
That hangs within the dark abyss.
In the same moment they can ne'er
Refresh thee with their treasures fair.

VI.

Know'st thou the form on tender ground?
It gives itself its glow, its light;
And though each moment changing found.
Is ever whole and ever bright.
In narrow compass 'tis confined,
Within the smallest frame it lies;
Yet all things great that move thy mind,
That form alone to thee supplies.

And canst thou, too, the crystal name?
No gem can equal it in worth;
It gleams, yet kindles near to flame,
It sucks in even all the earth.
Within its bright and wondrous ring
Is pictured forth the glow of heaven,
And yet it mirrors back each thing
Far fairer than to it 'twas given.

VII.

For ages an edifice here has been found,
It is not a dwelling, it is not a Pane;
A horseman for hundreds of days may ride round,
Yet the end of his journey he ne'er can attain.

Full many a century o'er it has passed,
The might of the storm and of time it defies!
Neath the rainbow of Heaven stands free to the last,--
In the ocean it dips, and soars up to the skies.

It was not vain glory that bade its ********,
It serves as a refuge, a shield, a protection;
Its like on the earth never yet has been known
And yet by man's hand it is fashioned alone.

VIII.

Among all serpents there is one,
Born of no earthly breed;
In fury wild it stands alone,
And in its matchless speed.

With fearful voice and headlong force
It rushes on its prey,
And sweeps the rider and his horse
In one fell swoop away.

The highest point it loves to gain;
And neither bar nor lock
Its fiery onslaught can restrain;
And arms--invite its shock.

It tears in twain like tender grass,
The strongest forest-trees;
It grinds to dust the hardened brass,
Though stout and firm it be.

And yet this beast, that none can tame,
Its threat ne'er twice fulfils;
It dies in its self-kindled flame.
And dies e'en when it kills.

IX.

We children six our being had
From a most strange and wondrous pair,--
Our mother ever grave and sad,
Our father ever free from care.

Our virtues we from both receive,--
Meekness from her, from him our light;
And so in endless youth we weave
Round thee a circling figure bright.

We ever shun the caverns black,
And revel in the glowing day;
'Tis we who light the world's dark track,
With our life's clear and magic ray.

Spring's joyful harbingers are we,
And her inspiring streams we swell;
And so the house of death we flee,
For life alone must round us dwell.

Without us is no perfect bliss,
When man is glad, we, too, attend,
And when a monarch worshipped is,
To him our majesty attend.

X.

What is the thing esteemed by few?
The monarch's hand it decks with pride,
Yet it is made to injure too,
And to the sword is most allied.

No blood it sheds, yet many a wound
Inflicts,--gives wealth, yet takes from none;
Has vanquished e'en the earth's wide round,
And makes life's current smoothly run.

The greatest kingdoms it has framed,
The oldest cities reared from dust,
Yet war's fierce torch has ne'er inflamed;
Happy are they who in it trust!

XI.

I live within a dwelling of stone,
There buried in slumber I dally;
Yet, armed with a weapon of iron alone,
The foe to encounter I sally.
At first I'm invisible, feeble, and mean,
And o'er me thy breath has dominion;
I'm easily drowned in a raindrop e'en,
Yet in victory waxes my pinion.
When my sister, all-powerful, gives me her hand,
To the terrible lord of the world I expand.

XII.

Upon a disk my course I trace,
There restlessly forever flit;
Small is the circuit I embrace,
Two hands suffice to cover it.
Yet ere that field I traverse, I
Full many a thousand mile must go,
E'en though with tempest-speed I fly,
Swifter than arrow from a bow.

XIII.

A bird it is, whose rapid motion
With eagle's flight divides the air;
A fish it is, and parts the ocean,
That bore a greater monster ne'er;
An elephant it is, whose rider
On his broad back a tower has put:
'Tis like the reptile base, the spider,
Whenever it extends its foot;
And when, with iron tooth projecting,
It seeks its own life-blood to drain,
On footing firm, itself erecting,
It braves the raging hurricane.
Written by Victor Hugo | Create an image from this poem

Insult Not The Fallen

 ("Oh! n'insultez jamais une femme qui tombe.") 
 
 {XIV., Sept. 6, 1835.} 


 I tell you, hush! no word of sneering scorn— 
 True, fallen; but God knows how deep her sorrow. 
 Poor girl! too many like her only born 
 To love one day—to sin—and die the morrow. 
 What know you of her struggles or her grief? 
 Or what wild storms of want and woe and pain 
 Tore down her soul from honor? As a leaf 
 From autumn branches, or a drop of rain 
 That hung in frailest splendor from a bough— 
 Bright, glistening in the sunlight of God's day— 
 So had she clung to virtue once. But now— 
 See Heaven's clear pearl polluted with earth's clay! 
 The sin is yours—with your accursed gold— 
 Man's wealth is master—woman's soul the slave! 
 Some purest water still the mire may hold. 
 Is there no hope for her—no power to save? 
 Yea, once again to draw up from the clay 
 The fallen raindrop, till it shine above, 
 Or save a fallen soul, needs but one ray 
 Of Heaven's sunshine, or of human love. 
 
 W.C.K. WILDE. 


 




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.


Written by Conrad Aiken | Create an image from this poem

Chiarascuro: Rose

 He

Fill your bowl with roses: the bowl, too, have of crystal. 
Sit at the western window. Take the sun 
Between your hands like a ball of flaming crystal, 
Poise it to let it fall, but hold it still, 
And meditate on the beauty of your existence; 
The beauty of this, that you exist at all. 

 She

The sun goes down,—but without lamentation. 
I close my eyes, and the stream of my sensation 
In this, at least, grows clear to me: 
Beauty is a word that has no meaning. 
Beauty is naught to me. 

 He

The last blurred raindrops fall from the half-clear sky, 
Eddying lightly, rose-tinged, in the windless wake of the sun. 
The swallow ascending against cold waves of cloud 
Seems winging upward over huge bleak stairs of stone. 
The raindrop finds its way to the heart of the leaf-bud. 
But no word finds its way to the heart of you. 

 She

This also is clear in the stream of my sensation: 
That I am content, for the moment, Let me be. 
How light the new grass looks with the rain-dust on it! 
But heart is a word that has no meaning, 
Heart means nothing to me. 

 He

To the end of the world I pass and back again 
In flights of the mind; yet always find you here, 
Remote, pale, unattached . . . O Circe-too-clear-eyed, 
Watching amused your fawning tiger-thoughts, 
Your wolves, your grotesque apes—relent, relent! 
Be less wary for once: it is the evening. 

 She

But if I close my eyes what howlings greet me! 
Do not persuade. Be tranquil. Here is flesh 
With all its demons. Take it, sate yourself. 
But leave my thoughts to me.
Written by Andrew Barton Paterson | Create an image from this poem

The Swagmans Rest

 We buried old Bob where the bloodwoods wave 
At the foot of the Eaglehawk; 
We fashioned a cross on the old man's grave 
For fear that his ghost might walk; 
We carved his name on a bloodwood tree 
With the date of his sad decease 
And in place of "Died from effects of spree" 
We wrote "May he rest in peace". 
For Bob was known on the Overland, 
A regular old bush wag, 
Tramping along in the dust and sand, 
Humping his well-worn swag. 
He would camp for days in the river-bed, 
And loiter and "fish for whales". 
"I'm into the swagman's yard," he said. 
"And I never shall find the rails." 

But he found the rails on that summer night 
For a better place -- or worse, 
As we watched by turns in the flickering light 
With an old black gin for nurse. 
The breeze came in with the scent of pine, 
The river sounded clear, 
When a change came on, and we saw the sign 
That told us the end was near. 

He spoke in a cultured voice and low -- 
"I fancy they've 'sent the route'; 
I once was an army man, you know, 
Though now I'm a drunken brute; 
But bury me out where the bloodwoods wave, 
And, if ever you're fairly stuck, 
Just take and shovel me out of the grave 
And, maybe, I'll bring you luck. 
"For I've always heard --" here his voice grew weak, 
His strength was wellnigh sped, 
He gasped and struggled and tried to speak, 
Then fell in a moment -- dead. 
Thus ended a wasted life and hard, 
Of energies misapplied -- 
Old Bob was out of the "swagman's yard" 
And over the Great Divide. 



The drought came down on the field and flock, 
And never a raindrop fell, 
Though the tortured moans of the starving stock 
Might soften a fiend from hell. 
And we thought of the hint that the swagman gave 
When he went to the Great Unseen -- 
We shovelled the skeleton out of the grave 
To see what his hint might mean. 

We dug where the cross and the grave posts were, 
We shovelled away the mould, 
When sudden a vein of quartz lay bare 
All gleaming with yellow gold. 
'Twas a reef with never a fault nor baulk 
That ran from the range's crest, 
And the richest mine on the Eaglehawk 
Is known as "The Swagman's Rest".

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry