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Famous Blot Poems by Famous Poets

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

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by Shelley, Percy Bysshe
...e unstrung.

Live thou, whose infamy is not thy fame!
Live! fear no heavier chastisement from me,
Thou noteless blot on a remembered name!
But be thyself, and know thyself to be!
And ever at thy season be thou free
To spill the venom when thy fangs o'erflow:
Remorse and Self-contempt shall cling to thee;
Hot Shame shall burn upon thy secret brow,
And like a beaten hound tremble thou shalt -as now.

Nor let us weep that our delight is fled
Far from these c...Read more of this...



by Sidney, Sir Philip
...ch foole, who by blind Fortunes lot
The richest gemme of loue and life enioys,
And can with foule abuse such beauties blot;
Let him, depriu'd of sweet but vnfelt ioys,
Exild for ay from those high treasures which
He knowes not, grow in only folly rich! 
XXV 

The wisest scholler of the wight most wise
By Phoebus doom, with sugred sentence sayes,
That vertue, if it once met with our eyes,
Strange flames of loue it in our souls would raise;
But for that man with pai...Read more of this...

by Robinson, Edwin Arlington
...former crafty care
That he had used never to cross my favor, 
Told of a lie that stained a friend of mine 
With a false blot that a few days washed off. 
A trifle now, but a boy’s honor then— 
Which then was everything. There were some words
Between us, but I don’t remember them. 
All I remember is a bursting flood 
Of half a year’s accumulated hate, 
And his incredulous eyes before I struck him. 
He had gone once too far; and when he knew it,
He knew it was a...Read more of this...

by Browning, Robert
...child, 
In that dear middle-age these noodles praise. 
How you'd exult if I could put you back 
Six hundred years, blot out cosmogony, 
Geology, ethnology, what not 
(Greek endings, each the little passing-bell 
That signifies some faith's about to die), 
And set you square with Genesis again,-- 
When such a traveller told you his last news, 
He saw the ark a-top of Ararat 
But did not climb there since 't was getting dusk 
And robber-bands infest the mountain's foot! 
H...Read more of this...

by Browning, Robert
...perfect rhomb, 
And next a lozenge, then a trapezoid-- 
He did not overlay them, superimpose 
The new upon the old and blot it out, 
But laid them on a level in his work, 
Making at last a picture; there it lies. 
So, first the perfect separate forms were made, 
The portions of mankind; and after, so, 
Occurred the combination of the same. 
For where had been a progress, otherwise? 
Mankind, made up of all the single men,-- 
In such a synthesis the labour ends. 
...Read more of this...



by Milton, John
...erious dame,
That ne'er art called but when the dragon womb
Of Stygian darkness spets her thickest gloom,
And makes one blot of all the air!
Stay thy cloudy ebon chair,
Wherein thou ridest with Hecat', and befriend
Us thy vowed priests, till utmost end
Of all thy dues be done, and none left out,
Ere the blabbing eastern scout,
The nice Morn on the Indian steep,
From her cabined loop-hole peep,
And to the tell-tale Sun descry
Our concealed solemnity.
Come, knit hands, and ...Read more of this...

by Wilcox, Ella Wheeler
...
Had made no lodge or wigwam desolate
To carry trophies to the proud and great; 
If on our history's page there were no blot
Left by the cruel rapine of Cabot, 
Of Verrazin, and Hudson, dare we claim
The Indian of the plains, to-day had been same? 

XII.

For in this brief existence, not alone
Do our lives gather what our hands have sown, 
But we reap, too, what others long ago
Sowed, careless of the harvests that might grow.
Thus hour by hour the humblest human souls...Read more of this...

by Tennyson, Alfred Lord
...she heard them moan: 
And in herself she moaned `Too late, too late!' 
Till in the cold wind that foreruns the morn, 
A blot in heaven, the Raven, flying high, 
Croaked, and she thought, `He spies a field of death; 
For now the Heathen of the Northern Sea, 
Lured by the crimes and frailties of the court, 
Begin to slay the folk, and spoil the land.' 

And when she came to Almesbury she spake 
There to the nuns, and said, `Mine enemies 
Pursue me, but, O peaceful Sisterhoo...Read more of this...

by Bryant, William Cullen
...reen pupilage, their lore half learned--
Ere guilt has quite o'errun the simple heart
God gave them at their birth, and blotted out
His image. Thou dost mark them, flushed with hope,
As on the threshold of their vast designs
Doubtful and loose they stand, and strik'st them down.

Alas, I little thought that the stern power
Whose fearful praise I sung, would try me thus
Before the strain was ended. It must cease--
For he is in his grave who taught my youth
The art ...Read more of this...

by Pope, Alexander
...ent Shakespeare scarce effac'd a line.
Ev'n copious Dryden wanted, or forgot,
The last and greatest art, the art to blot.


Some doubt, if equal pains, or equal fire
The humbler Muse of comedy require.
But in known images of life, I guess
The labour greater, as th' indulgence less.
Observe how seldom ev'n the best succeed:
Tell me if Congreve's fools are fools indeed?
What pert, low dialogue has Farqu'ar writ!
How Van wants grace, who never wanted wit!
The sta...Read more of this...

by Byron, George (Lord)
...was most enraged lest such 
An accident should chance to touch 
Upon his future pedigree;
Nor less amazed, that such a blot
His noble 'scutcheon should have got,
While he was highest of his line
Because unto himself he seemed
The first of men, nor less he deemed
In others' eyes, and most in mine.
'Sdeath! with a page - perchance a king
Had reconciled him to the thing;
But with a stripling of a page -
I felt - but cannot paint his rage.


IX

"'Bring forth the horse!"...Read more of this...

by Milton, John
...rrupting each their way; yet, those removed, 
Such grace shall one just man find in his sight, 
That he relents, not to blot out mankind; 
And makes a covenant never to destroy 
The earth again by flood; nor let the sea 
Surpass his bounds; nor rain to drown the world, 
With man therein or beast; but, when he brings 
Over the earth a cloud, will therein set 
His triple-coloured bow, whereon to look, 
And call to mind his covenant: Day and night, 
Seed-time and harvest, heat a...Read more of this...

by Milton, John
...own 
Must eat, and on the ground leave nothing green; 
Darkness must overshadow all his bounds, 
Palpable darkness, and blot out three days; 
Last, with one midnight stroke, all the first-born 
Of Egypt must lie dead. Thus with ten wounds 
The river-dragon tamed at length submits 
To let his sojourners depart, and oft 
Humbles his stubborn heart; but still, as ice 
More hardened after thaw; till, in his rage 
Pursuing whom he late dismissed, the sea 
Swallows him with his...Read more of this...

by Milton, John
...resolv'd
Might easily have shook off all her snares :
But foul effeminacy held me yok't 
Her Bond-slave; O indignity, O blot
To Honour and Religion! servil mind
Rewarded well with servil punishment!
The base degree to which I now am fall'n,
These rags, this grinding, is not yet so base
As was my former servitude, ignoble,
Unmanly, ignominious, infamous,
True slavery, and that blindness worse then this,
That saw not how degeneratly I serv'd.

Man: I cannot praise thy Marri...Read more of this...

by Service, Robert William
...lin eyes a-wink.

'Twas weird to see and it 'wildered me in a *****, hypnotic dream,
Till I saw a spot like an inky blot come floating down the stream;
It bobbed and swung; it sheered and hung; it romped round in a ring;
It seemed to play in a tricksome way; it sure was a merry thing.

In freakish flights strange oily lights came fluttering round its head,
Like butterflies of a monster size--then I knew it for the Dead.
Its face was rubbed and slicked and scrubbed...Read more of this...

by Wilde, Oscar
...Gave him three weeks of life,
Three little weeks in which to heal
His soul of his soul's strife,
And cleanse from every blot of blood
The hand that held the knife.

And with tears of blood he cleansed the hand,
The hand that held the steel:
For only blood can wipe out blood,
And only tears can heal:
And the crimson stain that was of Cain
Became Christ's snow-white seal.


VI


In Reading gaol by Reading town
There is a pit of shame,
And in it lies a wretched man
Eaten...Read more of this...

by Blake, William
...g upon its own dark fiction, 
In doubt which is self-contradiction? 
Humility is only doubt, 
And does the sun and moon blot out, 
Rooting over with thorns and stems 
The buried soul and all its gems. 
This life’s five windows of the soul 
Distorts the Heavens from pole to pole, 
And leads you to believe a lie 
When you see with, not thro’, the eye 
That was born in a night, to perish in a night, 
When the soul slept in the beams of light. 

Did Jesus teach doubt? or ...Read more of this...

by Bridges, Robert Seymour
...ss and gentleness, truth without peer,
And beauty that my fancy fed upon?
Now not my life's contrition for my fault
Can blot that day, nor work me recompence,
Tho' I might worthily thy worth exalt,
Making thee long amends for short offence. 
For surely nowhere, love, if not in thee
Are grace and truth and beauty to be found;
And all my praise of these can only be
A praise of thee, howe'er by thee disown'd:
While still thou must be mine tho' far removed,
And I for one offe...Read more of this...

by Tennyson, Alfred Lord
...climbs a peak to gaze 
O'er land and main, and sees a great black cloud 
Drag inward from the deeps, a wall of night, 
Blot out the slope of sea from verge to shore, 
And suck the blinding splendour from the sand, 
And quenching lake by lake and tarn by tarn 
Expunge the world: so fared she gazing there; 
So blackened all her world in secret, blank 
And waste it seemed and vain; till down she came, 
And found fair peace once more among the sick. 

And twilight dawned; an...Read more of this...

by Shelley, Percy Bysshe
...eplore
"Ills, which if ills, can find no cure from thee,
The thought of which no other sleep will quell
Nor other music blot from memory--
"So sweet & deep is the oblivious spell.--
Whether my life had been before that sleep
The Heaven which I imagine, or a Hell
"Like this harsh world in which I wake to weep,
I know not. I arose & for a space
The scene of woods & waters seemed to keep,
"Though it was now broad day, a gentle trace
Of light diviner than the common Sun
S...Read more of this...

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Book: Reflection on the Important Things