Famous Count On Poems by Famous Poets
These are examples of famous Count On poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous count on poems. These examples illustrate what a famous count on poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).
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by
Robert William Service
As nothingness draws near
How I can see
Inexorably clear
My vanity.
My sum of worthiness
Always so small,
Dwindles from less to less
To none at all.
As grisly destiny
Claims me at last,
How grievous seem to me
Sins of my past!
How keen a conscience edge
Can come to be!
How pitiless the dredge
Of memory!
Ye proud ones of the earth
Who count...Read more of this...
by
George Meredith
Pitch here the tent, while the old horse grazes:
By the old hedge-side we'll halt a stage.
It's nigh my last above the daisies:
My next leaf'll be man's blank page.
Yes, my old girl! and it's no use crying:
Juggler, constable, king, must bow.
One that outjuggles all's been spying
Long to have me, and he has me now.
We've travelled times to this old common:
Often...Read more of this...
by
Barry Tebb
For Jeremy Reed
Rejection doesn’t lead me to dejection
But to inspiration via irritation
Or at least to a bit of naughty new year wit-
Oh isn’t it a shame my poetry’s not tame
Like Rupert’s or Jay’s - I never could
Get into their STRIDE just to much pride
To lick the arses of the poetry-of-earthers
Or the sad lady who runs KATABASIS from the back
Of...Read more of this...
by
George Eliot
If you sit down at set of sun
And count the acts that you have done,
And, counting, find
One self-denying deed, one word
That eased the heart of him who heard,
One glance most kind
That fell like sunshine where it went --
Then you may count that day well spent.
But if, through all the livelong day,
You've cheered no heart, by yea or nay...Read more of this...
by
William Strode
Great Lady,
Humble partners of like griefe
In bringing Comfort may deserve beliefe,
Because they Feele and Feyne not: Thus we say
Unto Ourselves, Lord Bayning, though away,
Is still of Christ-Church; somewhat out of sight,
As when he travel'd, or did bid good night,
And was not seen long after; now he stands
Remov'd in Worlds, as heretofore in Lands;
But is not lost. The spight of...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
Count not that far that can be had,
Though sunset lie between --
Nor that adjacent, that beside,
Is further than the sun....Read more of this...
by
Friedrich von Schiller
At Aix-la-Chapelle, in imperial array,
In its halls renowned in old story,
At the coronation banquet so gay
King Rudolf was sitting in glory.
The meats were served up by the Palsgrave of Rhine,
The Bohemian poured out the bright sparkling wine,
And all the Electors, the seven,
Stood waiting around the world-governing one,
As the chorus of stars encircle the sun,
That honor might duly be given.
And...Read more of this...
by
Friedrich von Schiller
Now hearken, ye who take delight
In boasting of your worth!
To many a man, to many a knight,
Beloved in peace and brave in fight,
The Swabian land gives birth.
Of Charles and Edward, Louis, Guy,
And Frederick, ye may boast;
Charles, Edward, Louis, Frederick, Guy--
None with Sir Eberhard can vie--
Himself a mighty host!
And then young Ulerick, his son,
Ha! how he loved the fray!
Young Ulerick,...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
I reckon -- when I count it all --
First -- Poets -- Then the Sun --
Then Summer -- Then the Heaven of God --
And then -- the List is done --
But, looking back -- the First so seems
To Comprehend the Whole --
The Others look a needless Show --
So I write -- Poets -- All --
Their Summer -- lasts a...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
Again -- his voice is at the door --
I feel the old Degree --
I hear him ask the servant
For such an one -- as me --
I take a flower -- as I go --
My face to justify --
He never saw me -- in this life --
I might surprise his eye!
I cross the Hall with mingled steps --
I -- silent...Read more of this...
by
Alfred Lord Tennyson
I envy not in any moods
The captive void of noble rage,
The linnet born within the cage,
That never knew the summer woods:
I envy not the beast that takes
His license in the field of time,
Unfetter'd by the sense of crime,
To whom a conscience never wakes;
Nor, what may count itself as blest,
The heart that never plighted troth
But stagnates in the weeds...Read more of this...
by
William Shakespeare
In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes,
For they in thee a thousand errors note;
But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise,
Who in despite of view is pleased to dote.
Nor are mine cars with thy tongue's tune delighted,
Nor tender feeling to base touches prone,
Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be invited
To any sensual feast with thee...Read more of this...
by
Robert Louis Stevenson
I KNOW not how, but as I count
The beads of former years,
Old laughter catches in my throat
With the very feel of tears....Read more of this...
by
William Shakespeare
When I do count the clock that tells the time,
And see the brave day sunk in hideous night;
When I behold the violet past prime,
And sable curls all silvered o'er with white;
When lofty trees I see barren of leaves
Which erst from heat did canopy the herd,
And summer's green all girded up in sheaves
Borne on the bier with white and bristly...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
Thou canst not count to-day on seeing the day after
to-morrow; even to think of this to-morrow would be the
part of folly; if thy heart is awakened, lose not in inaction
this instant of life [which remains to thee] and for
the duration of which I see no warranty....Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
Count not to live beyond your sixtieth year,
To walk in jovial courses persevere;
And ere your skull be turned into a cup,
Let wine-cups ever to your hand adhere!...Read more of this...
by
Robert Burns
GANE is the day, and mirk’s the night,
But we’ll ne’er stray for faut o’ light;
Gude ale and bratdy’s stars and moon,
And blue-red wine’s the risin’ sun.
Chorus.—Then gudewife, count the lawin,
The lawin, the lawin,
Then gudewife, count the lawin,
And bring a coggie mair.
There’s wealth and ease for gentlemen,
And simple folk maun fecht and fen’;
But here we’re a’ in ae accord,
For...Read more of this...
by
Robert Louis Stevenson
NOT thine where marble-still and white
Old statues share the tempered light
And mock the uneven modern flight,
But in the stream
Of daily sorrow and delight
To seek a theme.
I too, O friend, have steeled my heart
Boldly to choose the better part,
To leave the beaten ways of art,
And wholly free
To dare, beyond the scanty chart,
The deeper sea.
All vain restrictions left behind,
Frail bark! I...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
Count upon life not longer than the sixtieth year.
Place thy foot in no direction without being overcome
with wine. As long as thy skull hath not been made a
pitcher, go always on thy way, nor take the wine-gourd
from thy shoulder or the wine-cup from thy hand....Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
The world will ever count me as depraved. Natheless
I am not guilty, Men of Holiness! Look on yourselves
and question what you are. Ye say I contravene the
Koran's law. Yet I have only known the sins of drunkenness,
debauchery and leasing.
301...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
I did not reach Thee
But my feet slip nearer every day
Three Rivers and a Hill to cross
One Desert and a Sea
I shall not count the journey one
When I am telling thee.
Two deserts, but the Year is cold
So that will help the sand
One desert crossed --
The second one
Will feel as cool as land
Sahara is too little price
To pay for thy...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
When I count the seeds
That are sown beneath,
To bloom so, bye and bye --
When I con the people
Lain so low,
To be received as high --
When I believe the garden
Mortal shall not see --
Pick by faith its blossom
And avoid its Bee,
I can spare this summer, unreluctantly....Read more of this...
by
Charles Bukowski
from my bed
I watch
3 birds
on a telephone
wire.
one flies
off.
then
another.
one is left,
then
it too
is gone.
my typewriter is
tombstone
still.
and I am
reduced to bird
watching.
just thought I'd
let you
know,
fucker....Read more of this...
by
Alexander Pushkin
One half Milord, one half in trade,
One half a sage, one half a dunce,
One half a crook, but here for once
There's every hope he'll make the grade....Read more of this...
by
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
[Goethe began to write an opera called Lowenstuhl,
founded upon the old tradition which forms the subject of this Ballad,
but he never carried out his design.]
OH, enter old minstrel, thou time-honour'd one!
We children are here in the hall all alone,
The portals we straightway will bar.
Our mother is praying, our father is gone
To the forest, on wolves to make...Read more of this...
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