Get Your Premium Membership

Famous Bight Poems by Famous Poets

These are examples of famous Bight poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous bight poems. These examples illustrate what a famous bight poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).

See also:

by Berryman, John
...Henry, edged, decidedly, made up stories
lighting the past of Henry, of his glorious
present, and his hoaries,
all the bight heals he tamped— —Euphoria,
Mr Bones, euphoria. Fate clobber all.
—Hand me back my crawl,

condign Heaven. Tighten into a ball
elongate & valved Henry. Tuck him peace.
Render him sightless,
or ruin at high rate his crampon focus,
wipe out his need. Reduce him to the rest of us.
—But, Bones, you is that.

—I can...Read More

by Kipling, Rudyard
...bel, Assyrian, Stormcock, and Golden

 Noon off the Foreland--the first ebb making
 Lumpy and strong in the bight.
 Boom after boom, and the golf-hut shaking
 And the jackdaws wild with fright!
 "Mines located in the fairway,
 "Boats now working up the chain,
 "Sweepers--Unity, Claribel, Assyrian, Stormcock, and Golden

Dusk off the Foreland--the last light going
 And the traffic crowding through,
And five damned trawlers with their syreens blowing...Read More

by Bishop, Elizabeth
...nd glare
and the boats are dry, the pilings dry as matches.
Absorbing, rather than being absorbed,
the water in the bight doesn't wet anything,
the color of the gas flame turned as low as possible.
One can smell it turning to gas; if one were Baudelaire
one could probably hear it turning to marimba music.
The little ocher dredge at work off the end of the dock
already plays the dry perfectly off-beat claves.
The birds are outsize. Pelicans crash
into this ...Read More

by Lawson, Henry
Then it pelters out of reason, for the downpour day and night 
Nearly sweeps the population to the Great Australian Bight. 
It is up in Northern Queensland that the seasons do their best, 
But it's doubtful if you ever saw a season in the West; 
There are years without an autumn or a winter or a spring, 
There are broiling Junes, and summers when it rains like anything. 

In the bush my ears were opened to the singing of the bird, 
But the `carol of the magpie' wa...Read More

by Kipling, Rudyard
...and skin.
There were fifteen hundred skins abeach, cool pelt and proper fur,
When the Northern Light drove into the bight
 and the sea-mist drove with her.
The Baltic called her men and weighed -- she could not choose but run --
For a stovepipe seen through the closing mist, it shows like a four-inch gun.
(And loss it is that is sad as death to lose both trip and ship
And lie for a rotting contraband on Vladivostock slip.)
She turned and dived in the sea-smoth...Read More

by von Goethe, Johann Wolfgang
...OH prophetic bird so bright,
Blossom-songster, cuckoo bight!
In the fairest time of year,
Dearest bird, oh! deign to hear
What a youthful pair would pray,
Do thou call, if hope they may:
Thy cuck-oo, thy cuck-oo.
Ever more cuck-oo, cuck-oo!

Hearest thou? A loving pair
Fain would to the altar fare;
Yes! a pair in happy youth,
Full of virtue, full of truth.
Is the hour not fix'd by fate?
Say, how long mu...Read More

by Morris, William
...thee hover awhile as a lark alow on the corn;
Yet I bid thee look on the land 'twixt the wood and the silver sea
In the bight of the swirling river, and the house that cherished me!
There dwelleth mine earthly sister and the king that she hath wed;
There morn by morn aforetime I woke on the golden bed;
There eve by eve I tarried mid the speech and the lays of kings;
There noon by noon I wandered and plucked the blossoming things;
The little land of Lymdale by the swirling riv...Read More

by Kipling, Rudyard
 Johnnie, my Johnnie, aha!
I comed away like a bleedin' toff,
For I got four niggers to carry me off,
As I lay in the bight of a canvas trough,
 When the Widow give the party.

"What was the end of all the show,
 Johnnie, Johnnie?"
Ask my Colonel, for I don't know,
 Johnnie, my Johnnie, aha!
We broke a King and we built a road --
A court-house stands where the reg'ment goed.
And the river's clean where the raw blood flowed
 When the Widow give the party.
 (Bugle...Read More

Dont forget to view our wonderful member Bight poems.