Famous Browsing Poems by Famous Poets
These are examples of famous Browsing poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous browsing poems. These examples illustrate what a famous browsing poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).
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...Ye lovers of the picturesque, away and see
Beautiful Balmoral, near by the River Dee;
There ye will see the deer browsing on the heathery hills,
While adown their sides run clear sparkling rills.
Which the traveller can drink of when he feels dry,
And admire the dark River Dee near by,
Rolling smoothly and silently on its way,
Which is most lovely to see on a summer day.
There the trout do sport and play
During the live-long summer day;
Also plenty of salmon are th...Read more of this...
by
McGonagall, William Topaz
...s round and softly murmur'd love;Never that leafy screen and mossy seatDrew browsing flock or whistling rustic nearBut nymphs and muses danced to music sweet.There as I sat and drankWith infinite delight their carols gay,And mark'd their sport, the earth before me sankAnd bore with it awayThe fountain a...Read more of this...
by
Petrarch, Francesco
...ir, the large,
That wrought with beauty.
Lo, what bulk is here?
Now comes the Course-of-things, shaped like an Ox,
Slow browsing, o'er my hillside, ponderously --
The huge-brawned, tame, and workful Course-of-things,
That hath his grass, if earth be round or flat,
And hath his grass, if empires plunge in pain
Or faiths flash out. This cool, unasking Ox
Comes browsing o'er my hills and vales of Time,
And thrusts me out his tongue, and curls it, sharp,
And sicklewise, about my ...Read more of this...
by
Lanier, Sidney
...plunge and roar,
Till both broad bellies drip with purple gore.
Meanwhile, the heifer, whom the twain desire,
Stands browsing near the pair, indifferent to their ire.
LVI.
At last she lifts her lazy head and heeds
The clattering hoofs of swift advancing steeds.
Off to the herd with cumb'rous gait she runs
And leaves the bulls to face the threatening guns.
No more for them the free life of the plains,
Its mating pleasures and its warring pains.
Their quivering flesh sh...Read more of this...
by
Wilcox, Ella Wheeler
...FAME.
See, as the prettiest graves will do in time,
Our poet's wants the freshness of its prime;
Spite of the sexton's browsing horse, the sods
Have struggled through its binding osier rods;
Headstone and half-sunk footstone lean awry,
Wanting the brick-work promised by-and-by;
How the minute grey lichens, plate o'er plate,
Have softened down the crisp-cut name and date!
LOVE.
So, the year's done with
(_Love me for ever!_)
All March begun with,
April's endeavour;
May-wreat...Read more of this...
by
Browning, Robert
...r Arthur's Seat, I'm sure it is a treat
Most worthy to be seen, with its rugged rocks and pastures green,
And the sheep browsing on its sides
To and fro, with slow-paced strides,
And the little lambkins at play
During the livelong summer day,
Beautiful city of Edinburgh! the truth to express,
Your beauties are matchless I must confess,
And which no one dare gainsay,
But that you are the grandest city in Scotland at the present day!...Read more of this...
by
McGonagall, William Topaz
....
A white abyss beneath, and nought beside;
Yet, hark! a cropping sound not ten feet down:
Soon I could trace some browsing lambs that hied
Through rock-paths cleft and brown.
And here and there green tufts of grass peered through,
Salt lavender, and sea thrift; then behold
The mist, subsiding ever, bared to view
A beast of giant mould.
She seemed a great sea-monster lying content
With all her cubs about her: but deep—deep—
The subtle mist went fl...Read more of this...
by
Ingelow, Jean
...
Father, I want your reputation to outlive the pursuits
of others with their iron-on reviews after an hour's
worth of browsing at a lifetime of your work.
Father, are you crying?
Stop that sound.
Copyright © Lisa Zaran, 2005
...Read more of this...
by
Zaran, Lisa
...at yard
still. Perhaps light falling
on distant houses becomes
those houses, hunching them
down at dusk like sheep
browsing on a far hillside,
or at daybreak gilds
the roofs until they groan
under the new weight, or
after rain lifts haloes
of steam from the rinsed,
white aluminum siding,
and those houses and all
they contain live that day
in the sight of heaven.
II
In the blue, winking light
of the International Institute
of Social Revolution
I fell aslee...Read more of this...
by
Levine, Philip
...en,
Wodehouse and Wooster are with us again.
Flourish the fish-slice, your buttons unloosing,
Prepare for the fabulous browsing and sluicing,
And quote, til you're known as the neighborhood nuisance,
The gems that illumine the browsance and sluicance.
Oh, fondle each gem, and after you quote it,
Kindly inform me just who wrote it.
Which came first, the egg or the rooster?
P.G.Wodehouse or Bertram Wooster?
I know hawk from handsaw, and Finn from Fiji,
But I can't disentangl...Read more of this...
by
Nash, Ogden
...e day is never darken'd
That had thee here obscure.
You with shelly horns, rams! and, promontory goats,
You whose browsing beards dip in coldest dew!
Bulls, that walk the pastures in kingly-flashing coats!
Laurel, ivy, vine, wreathed for feasts not few!
You that build the shade-roof, and you that court the rays,
You that leap besprinkling the rock stream-rent:
He has been our fellow, the morning of our days;
Us he chose for housemates, and this way went.
God!...Read more of this...
by
Meredith, George
...
The exultation of their stone, that died
Under his fingers.
Shepherd. I had it from his mother,
And his own flock was browsing at the door.
Goatherd. How does she bear her grief? There is not a
shepherd
But grows more gentle when he speaks her name,
Remembering kindness done, and how can I,
That found when I had neither goat nor grazing
New welcome and old wisdom at her fire
Till winter blasts were gone, but speak of her
Even before his children and his wife?
Shepherd. S...Read more of this...
by
Yeats, William Butler
...to make a dull heart feel gay,
And help to oheer us on our way.
Chorus
And there the innocent sheep are to be seen
Browsing on the purple heather and pastures green;
And the shepherd can be heard shouting to his dog
As he chases the sheep from out of the bog.
Chorus
And from the tops of the Sidlaws can be seen
The beautiful Howe of Strathmore with its trees and shrubberies green;
Likewise Lochee and its spinning mills
Can be seen on a clear day from the Sidlaw hills....Read more of this...
by
McGonagall, William Topaz
...ith these,
The traitor in his turn to seize;
My wrath is wreaked, the deed is done,
And now I go - but go alone.'
The browsing camels' bells are tinkling:
His mother looked from her lattice high -
She saw the dews of eve besprinkling
The pasture green beneath her eye,
She saw the planets faintly twinkling:
''Tis twilight - sure his train is nigh.'
She could not rest in the garden-bower,
But gazed through the grate of his steepest tower:
'Why comes he not? his steeds are fle...Read more of this...
by
Byron, George (Lord)
...eeten
In the lapse of noon;
Shepherds on the hills,
In the pastures, drowsing
To the tinkling bells
Of the brown sheep browsing;
Sailors cying through the storm;
Scholars at your study; hunters
Lost amid the whirling winter's
Whiteness uniform;
Men that long to sleep;
Men that wake and revel;—
If an old song leap
To your senses' level
At such moments, may it be
Sometimes, though a moment only,
Some forgotten, quaint and homely
Vehicle of me?
Women at your toil,
Women at yo...Read more of this...
by
St. Vincent Millay, Edna
...of the heather
Too close attention, they will invite me
To whiten my bones among them.
The sheep know where they are,
Browsing in their dirty wool-clouds,
Gray as the weather.
The black slots of their pupils take me in.
It is like being mailed into space,
A thin, silly message.
They stand about in grandmotherly disguise,
All wig curls and yellow teeth
And hard, marbly baas.
I come to wheel ruts, and water
Limpid as the solitudes
That flee through my fingers.
Hollow doorste...Read more of this...
by
Plath, Sylvia
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