Famous Clan Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Shirt

by Robert Pinsky
 The back, the yoke, the yardage. Lapped seams,
The nearly invisible stitches along the collar
Turned in a sweatshop by Koreans or Malaysians

Gossiping over tea and noodles on their break
Or talking money or politics while one fitted
This armpiece with its overseam to the band

Of cuff I button at my wrist. The presser, the cutter,
The wringer, the mangle. The needle, the union,
The...Read more of this...

Gathering Song of Donald the Black

by Sir Walter Scott
 Pibroch of Donuil Dhu 
Pibroch of Donuil 
Wake thy wild voice anew, 
Summon Clan Conuil! 
Come away, come away, 
Hark to the summons! 
Come in your war-array, 
Gentles and commons. 

Come from deep glen, and 
From mountain so rocky; 
The war-pipe and pennon 
Are at Inverlocky. 
Come every hill-plaid, and 
True heart that wears one, 
Come every steel blade,...Read more of this...

Robin Hood

by John Keats
 to a friend 

No! those days are gone away
And their hours are old and gray,
And their minutes buried all
Under the down-trodden pall
Of the leaves of many years:
Many times have winter's shears,
Frozen North, and chilling East,
Sounded tempests to the feast
Of the forest's whispering fleeces,
Since men knew nor rent nor leases.

 No, the bugle sounds no more,
And the twanging bow no...Read more of this...

A Song For Kilts

by Robert William Service
 How grand the human race would be
 If every man would wear a kilt,
A flirt of Tartan finery,
 Instead of trousers, custom built!
Nay, do not think I speak to joke:
 (You know I'm not that kind of man),
I am convinced that all men folk.
 Should wear the costume of a Clan.

Imagine how it's braw and clean
 As in the...Read more of this...

Ad Piscatorem

by Robert Louis Stevenson
 FOR these are sacred fishes all
Who know that lord that is the lord of all;
Come to the brim and nose the friendly hand
That sways and can beshadow all the land.
Nor only so, but have their names, and come
When they are summoned by the Lord of Rome.
Here once his line an impious Lybian threw;
And as with tremulous reed his prey...Read more of this...

The Idea of Ancestry

by Etheridge Knight
 Taped to the wall of my cell are 47 pictures: 47 black
faces: my father, mother, grandmothers (1 dead), grand-
fathers (both dead), brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts,
cousins (1st and 2nd), nieces, and nephews.They stare
across the space at me sprawling on my bunk.I know
their dark eyes, they know mine.I know their style,
they know mine.I am all of them, they are all of...Read more of this...

The Scapegoat

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 We have all of us read how the Israelites fled 
From Egypt with Pharaoh in eager pursuit of 'em, 
And Pharaoh's fierce troop were all put "in the soup" 
When the waters rolled softly o'er every galoot of 'em. 
The Jews were so glad when old Pharaoh was "had" 
That they sounded their timbrels and capered like mad. 
You...Read more of this...

464. The Highland Widow's Lament

by Robert Burns
 OH I am come to the low Countrie,
 Ochon, Ochon, Ochrie!
Without a penny in my purse,
 To buy a meal to me.


It was na sae in the Highland hills,
 Ochon, Ochon, Ochrie!
Nae woman in the Country wide,
 Sae happy was as me.


For then I had a score o’kye,
 Ochon, Ochon, Ochrie!
Feeding on you hill sae high,
 And giving milk...Read more of this...

Fragment of an Ode to Maia

by John Keats
 MOTHER of Hermes! and still youthful Maia! 
 May I sing to thee 
As thou wast hymned on the shores of Baiae? 
 Or may I woo thee 
In earlier Sicilian? or thy smiles 
Seek as they once were sought, in Grecian isles, 
By bards who died content on pleasant sward, 
 Leaving great verse unto a little clan?...Read more of this...

The Pipes At Lucknow

by John Greenleaf Whittier
 Pipes of the misty moorlands,
Voice of the glens and hills;
The droning of the torrents,
The treble of the rills!
Not the braes of bloom and heather,
Nor the mountains dark with rain,
Nor maiden bower, nor border tower,
Have heard your sweetest strain!

Dear to the Lowland reaper,
And plaided mountaineer, -
To the cottage and the castle
The Scottish pipes are dear; -
Sweet sounds the ancient pibroch
O'er...Read more of this...

The Battle of Culloden

by William Topaz McGonagall
 'Twas in the year of 1746, and in April the 14th day,
That Prince Charles Stuart and his army marched on without delay,
And on the 14th of April they encamped on Culloden Moor,
But the army felt hungry, and no food could they procure. 

And the calls of hunger could not brook delay,
So they resolved to have food, come what may;
They,...Read more of this...

MacGregors Gathering

by Sir Walter Scott
 The moon's on the lake, and the mist's on the brae,
And the Clan has a name that is nameless by day;
Then gather, gather, gather, Grigalach!
Gather, gather, gather, &c.

Our signal for fight, that from monarchs we drew,
Must be heard but by night in our vengeful haloo!
Then haloo, Grigalach! haloo, Grigalach!
Haloo, haloo, haloo, Grigalach, &c.

Glen Orchy's proud mountains, Coalchuirn and her...Read more of this...

The Stretcher-Bearer

by Robert William Service
 My stretcher is one scarlet stain,
 And as I tries to scrape it clean,
I tell you wot -- I'm sick with pain
 For all I've 'eard, for all I've seen;
Around me is the 'ellish night,
 And as the war's red rim I trace,
I wonder if in 'Eaven's height,
 Our God don't turn away 'Is Face.

I don't care 'oose the...Read more of this...

390. Song—A Health to them that's awa

by Robert Burns
 HERE’S a health to them that’s awa,
 Here’s a health to them that’s awa;
And wha winna wish gude luck to our cause,
 May never gude luck be their fa’!
 It’s gude to be merry and wise,
 It’s gude to be honest and true;
It’s gude to support Caledonia’s cause,
 And bide by the buff and the blue.


 Here’s a health...Read more of this...

Mae Marsh Motion Picture Actress

by Vachel Lindsay
 I

The arts are old, old as the stones
From which man carved the sphinx austere.
Deep are the days the old arts bring:
Ten thousand years of yesteryear.


II

She is madonna in an art
As wild and young as her sweet eyes:
A frail dew flower from this hot lamp
That is today's divine surprise.

Despite raw lights and gloating mobs
She is not seared: a picture still:
Rare...Read more of this...

In the Neolithic Age

by Rudyard Kipling
 1895

I the Neolithic Age savage warfare did I wage
 For food and fame and woolly horses' pelt.
I was singer to my clan in that dim, red Dawn of Man,
 And I sang of all we fought and feared and felt.

Yea, I sang as now I sing, when the Prehistoric spring
 Made the piled Biscayan ice-pack split and shove;
And the...Read more of this...

Kitcheners School

by Rudyard Kipling
 1898

Being a translation of the song that was made by a Mohammedanschoolmaster of Bengal Infantry (some time on service at Suakim)when he heard that Kitchener was taking money from the English tobuild a Madrissa for Hubshees -- or a college for the Sudanese.
Oh Hubshee, carry your shoes in your hand and bow your head on your breast!
This is the...Read more of this...

Pibroch of Donail Dhu

by Sir Walter Scott
 Pibroch of Donuil Dhu,
Pibroch of Donuil,
Wake thy wild voice anew,
Summon Clan-Conuil.
Come away, come away,
Hark to the summons!
Come in your war array,
Gentles and commons.

Come from deep glen and
From mountain so rocky,
The war-pipe and pennon
Are at Inverlochy.
Come every hill-plaid and
True heart that wears one,
Come every steel blade and
Strong hand that bears one.

Leave untended the herd,
The flock without shelter;
Leave the corpse uninterr'd,
The...Read more of this...

A Prayer to All the Dead among Mine Own People

by Vachel Lindsay
 Are these your presences, my clan from Heaven? 
Are these your hands upon my wounded soul? 
Mine own, mine own, blood of my blood be with me, 
Fly by my path till you have made me whole!...Read more of this...

52. Epitaph on John Rankine

by Robert Burns
 AE day, as Death, that gruesome carl,
Was driving to the tither warl’
A mixtie-maxtie motley squad,
And mony a guilt-bespotted lad—
Black gowns of each denomination,
And thieves of every rank and station,
From him that wears the star and garter,
To him that wintles in a halter:
Ashamed himself to see the wretches,
He mutters, glowrin at the bitches,
“By G—d I’ll not be seen behint them,
Nor...Read more of this...

The Maoris Wool

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 The Maoris are a mighty race -- the finest ever known; 
Before the missionaries came they worshipped wood and stone; 
They went to war and fought like fiends, and when the war was done 
They pacified their conquered foes by eating every one. 
But now-a-days about the pahs in idleness they lurk, 
Prepared to smoke or drink or talk...Read more of this...

The Ballad of East and West

by Rudyard Kipling
 Oh, East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet,
Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God's great Judgment Seat;
But there is neither East nor West, Border, nor Breed, nor Birth,
When two strong men stand face to face, tho' they come from the ends of the earth!

Kamal is out with twenty men to raise the...Read more of this...

Thought For A Sunshiny Morning

by Dorothy Parker
 It costs me never a stab nor squirm
To tread by chance upon a worm.
"Aha, my little dear," I say,
"Your clan will pay me back one day."...Read more of this...

Pan liveth

by Eugene Field
 They told me once that Pan was dead,
And so, in sooth, I thought him;
For vainly where the streamlets led
Through flowery meads I sought him--
Nor in his dewy pasture bed
Nor in the grove I caught him.
"Tell me," 'twas so my clamor ran--
"Tell me, oh, where is Pan?"

But, once, as on my pipe I played
A requiem sad and tender,
Lo, thither came...Read more of this...

The Ballad of Cockatoo Dock

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 Of all the docks upon the blue 
There was no dockyard, old or new, 
To touch the dock at Cockatoo. 

Of all the ministerial clan 
There was no nicer, worthier man 
Than Admiral O'Sullivan. 

Of course, we mean E. W. 
O'Sullivan, the hero who 
Controlled the dock at Cockatoo. 

To workmen he explained his views -- 
"You need not...Read more of this...

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