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Famous Bluebell Poems by Famous Poets

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

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by Clampitt, Amy
...ity

beyond the woven
unicorn the maiden
(man-carved worm-eaten)
God at her hip
incipient
the untransfigured
cottontail
bluebell and primrose
growing wild a strawberry
chagrin night terrors
past the earthlit
unearthly masquerade

(we shall be changed)

a silence opens

 *

the larval feeder
naked hairy ravenous
inventing from within
itself its own
raw stuffs'
hooked silk-hung
relinquishment

behind the mask
the milkfat shivering
sinew isinglass
uncrumpling transient
greed to ...Read More



by Blunden, Edmund
...— small sirs,
    We bring less danger than the very breeze
    Who in great zig-zag blows the bee, and whirs
    In bluebell shadow down the bright green leas;
    From whom in frolic fit the chopt straw darts and flees.

    The cornel steepling up in white shall know
    The two friends passing by, and poplar smile
    All gold within; the church-top fowl shall glow
    To lure us on, and we shall rest awhile
    Where the wild apple blooms above the stile;
...Read More

by Tebb, Barry
...and seek,

Bogies-on-wheels

Not one tree in Hunslet

Except in the cemetery

The lake filled in

For fifty years,

The bluebell has rung

Its last perfumed peal.





42



I couldn’t play out on Sunday

Mam and dad thought us a cut

Above the rest, it was another

Test I failed, keeping me and

Margaret apart was like the Aztecs

Tearing the heart from the living flesh.





43



Father, your office job

Didn’t save you

From the drugs

They never gave you.



...Read More

by Tebb, Barry
...he purple distance.



4



Margaret, I am making you of sun and shadow,

Of harp and violin, silk and satin skin,

Bluebell and harebell, sand and wave, grass

On the hillocks of the Hollows, the violet

Tears of your eyes.



Breath and rhythm

Now and always

Heart and head

Sister, lover,

Bride and mother.

5



The heron on high stilts through the sky

Over the Band of Hope Annual Treat

Margaret and I, sitting together at the front

Of the green corporation...Read More

by Service, Robert William
...in his mind
 To answer one a maid had sent;
He sought the fitting word to find,
 As on by hill and rill he went.
By bluebell wood and hawthorn lane,
 The cadence sweet and silken phrase
He incubated in his brain
 For days and days.

He wrote his letter on a page
 Of paper with a satin grain;
It did not ring, so in a rage
 He tore it up and tried again.
Time after time he drafted it;
 He polished it all through the night;
He tuned and pruned till bit by bit
 He got...Read More



by Lawrence, D. H.
...mysterious corruption
were not yet to come still more from the still-flickering discontent.

Oh, in the spring, the bluebell bows him down for very exuberance,
exulting with secret warm excess,
bowed down with his inner magnificence!

Oh, yes, the gush of spring is strong enough
to toss the globe of earth like a ball on a water-jet
dancing sportfully;
as you see a tiny celluloid ball tossing on a squirt of water
for men to shoot at, penny-a-time, in a booth at a fair....Read More

by Tennyson, Alfred Lord
...are flowers again;
So dame and damsel cast the simple white,
And glowing in all colours, the live grass,
Rose-campion, bluebell, kingcup, poppy, glanced
About the revels, and with mirth so loud
Beyond all use, that, half-amazed, the Queen,
And wroth at Tristram and the lawless jousts,
Brake up their sports, then slowly to her bower
Parted, and in her bosom pain was lord.


And little Dagonet on the morrow morn,
High over all the yellowing Autumn-tide,
Danced like a withe...Read More

by Raine, Kathleen
...Primrose, anemone, bluebell, moss
Grow in the Kingdom of the Cross

And the ash-tree's purple bud
Dresses the spear that sheds his blood.

With the thorns that pierce his brow
Soft encircling petals grow

For in each flower the secret lies
Of the tree that crucifies.

Garden by the water clear
All must die who enter here!...Read More

by Bronte, Anne
...chills me to the heart,
Before I cease to mourn.

And these bright flowers I love so well,
Verbena, rose and sweet bluebell,
Must droop and die away.
Those thick green leaves with all their shade
And rustling music, they must fade
And every one decay.

But if the sunny summer time
And woods and meadows in their prime
Are sweet to them that roam --
Far sweeter is the winter bare
With long dark nights and landscapes drear
To them that are at Home!...Read More

by Bronte, Anne
...wer,
Each one its own sweet feeling breathes
With more or less of power. 
There is a silent eloquence
In every wild bluebell
That fills my softened heart with bliss
That words could never tell.

Yet I recall not long ago
A bright and sunny day,
'Twas when I led a toilsome life
So many leagues away;

That day along a sunny road
All carelessly I strayed,
Between two banks where smiling flowers
Their varied hues displayed.

Before me rose a lofty hill,
Behind me lay ...Read More

by Bronte, Anne
...wer,
Each one its own sweet feeling breathes
With more or less of power. 
There is a silent eloquence
In every wild bluebell
That fills my softened heart with bliss
That words could never tell.

Yet I recall not long ago
A bright and sunny day,
'Twas when I led a toilsome life
So many leagues away;

That day along a sunny road
All carelessly I strayed,
Between two banks where smiling flowers
Their varied hues displayed.

Before me rose a lofty hill,
Behind me lay ...Read More

by Tennyson, Alfred Lord
...e flowers again; 
So dame and damsel cast the simple white, 
And glowing in all colours, the live grass, 
Rose-campion, bluebell, kingcup, poppy, glanced 
About the revels, and with mirth so loud 
Beyond all use, that, half-amazed, the Queen, 
And wroth at Tristram and the lawless jousts, 
Brake up their sports, then slowly to her bower 
Parted, and in her bosom pain was lord. 

And little Dagonet on the morrow morn, 
High over all the yellowing Autumn-tide, 
Danced like ...Read More

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