Famous Bove Poems by Famous Poets
These are examples of famous Bove poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous bove poems. These examples illustrate what a famous bove poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).
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...ach amorous Swain;
Knowing, true Fame, Vertue alone can give:
Nor dost thou greedily even that receive.
And what 'bove this thy Character can raise ?
Thirsty of Merit, yet neglecting Praise !
While daily these Perfections I discry,
Matchless Alinda makes me daily dy.
Thou absent, Flow'rs to me no Odours yield,
Nor find I freshness in the dewy Field;
Not Thyrsis Voice, nor Melibeus Lire,
Can my Sad Heart with one Gay Thought inspire;
My thriving Flock ('mong Shep...Read more of this...
by
Killigrew, Anne
...ta'en
From every wasting sigh, from every pain,
Into the gentle bosom of thy love.
Why it is thus, one knows in heaven above:
But, a poor Naiad, I guess not. Farewel!
I have a ditty for my hollow cell."
Hereat, she vanished from Endymion's gaze,
Who brooded o'er the water in amaze:
The dashing fount pour'd on, and where its pool
Lay, half asleep, in grass and rushes cool,
Quick waterflies and gnats were sporting still,
And fish were dimpling, as if good nor ill
Had fallen o...Read more of this...
by
Keats, John
...make a ladder of the eternal wind,
And poise about in cloudy thunder-tents
To watch the abysm-birth of elements.
Aye, 'bove the withering of old-lipp'd Fate
A thousand Powers keep religious state,
In water, fiery realm, and airy bourne;
And, silent as a consecrated urn,
Hold sphery sessions for a season due.
Yet few of these far majesties, ah, few!
Have bared their operations to this globe--
Few, who with gorgeous pageantry enrobe
Our piece of heaven--whose benevolence
Shake...Read more of this...
by
Keats, John
...eace or wars,
No harp e'er hit the stars,
In tuning forth the acts of his sweet reign,
And raising Charles his chariot 'bove his Wain."...Read more of this...
by
Jonson, Ben
...did prize;
The Beauty Excellent even to those were Faire,
Subscrib'd unto, by such as might compare;
The Star that 'bove her Orb did always move,
And yet the Noblest did not Hate, but Love;
And those who most upon their Title stood,
Vail'd also to, because she did more Good.
To whom the Wrong'd, and Worthy did resort,
And held their Sutes obtain'd, if only brought;
The highest Saint in all the Heav'n of Court.
So Noble was her Aire, so Great her Meen,
She seem'd a...Read more of this...
by
Killigrew, Anne
...or e'er the ruddy line;
And the earth is veiled in dun,—
"Nay, in darkness, best I shine!"
O, my soul! art 'bove alarm,
Quaffing thus the cup of gall—
Canst thou face the grave with calm?—
"Yes, the Christians smile at all."
...Read more of this...
by
Hugo, Victor
...the heys with nimble feet,
Thou shalt come forth, and then appear
The Queen of Roses for that year.
And having danced ('bove all the best)
Carry the garland from the rest,
In wicker-baskets maids shall bring
To thee, my dearest shepherdling,
The blushing apple, bashful pear,
And shame-faced plum, all simp'ring there.
Walk in the groves, and thou shalt find
The name of Phillis in the rind
Of every straight and smooth-skin tree;
Where kissing that, I'll twice kiss thee.
To thee...Read more of this...
by
Herrick, Robert
...both to know the Ill, and to partake,
The little Weeping Gods I thus bespake.
Ye Noblest Pow'rs and Gentlest that Above,
Govern us Men, but govern still with Love,
Vouchsafe to tell, what can that Sorrow be,
Disorders Heaven, and wounds a Deitie.
My Prayer not spoken out,
One of the Winged Rout,
With Indignation great,
Sprung from his Airie-Seat,
And mounting to a Higher Cloud,
With Thunder, or a Voice as loud
Cried, Mortal there, there seek the Grief...Read more of this...
by
Killigrew, Anne
...Of sweet discourse, whose powers
Can crown old winter's head with flowers.
Soft silken hours,
Open suns, shady bowers
'Bove all; nothing within that lours.
Whate'er delight
Can make day's forehead bright,
Or give down to the wings of night.
In her whole frame
Have nature all the name,
Art and ornament the shame.
Her flattery
Picture and poesy,
Her counsel her own virtue be.
I wish her store
Of worth may leave her poor
Of wishes; and I wish—no more.
Now, if Time knows
Th...Read more of this...
by
Crashaw, Richard
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