Famous Crave Poems by Famous Poets
These are examples of famous Crave poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous crave poems. These examples illustrate what a famous crave poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).
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by
Adela Florence Cory Nicolson
Who does not feel desire unending
To solace through his daily strife,
With some mysterious Mental Blending,
The hungry loneliness of life?
Until, by sudden passion shaken,
As terriers shake a rat at play,
He finds, all blindly, he...Read more of this...
by
Robert Frost
Love at the lips was touch
As sweet as I could bear;
And once that seemed too much;
I lived on air
That crossed me from sweet things,
The scent of -- was it musk
From hidden grapevine springs
Down hill at dusk?
I had the swirl and ache
From sprays of honeysuckle
That when they're gathered shake
Dew on the knuckle.
I craved sweet things, but those
Seemed strong when I...Read more of this...
by
William Ernest Henley
There's a regret
So grinding, so immitigably sad,
Remorse thereby feels tolerant, even glad. ...
Do you not know it yet?
For deeds undone
Rnakle and snarl and hunger for their due,
Till there seems naught so despicable as you
In all the grin o' the sun.
Like an old shoe
The sea spurns and the land abhors, you lie
About the beach of Time, till by and by
Death,...Read more of this...
by
William Shakespeare
That god forbid that made me first your slave,
I should in thought control your times of pleasure,
Or at your hand the account of hours to crave,
Being your vassal, bound to stay your leisure!
O, let me suffer, being at your beck,
The imprison'd absence of your liberty;
And patience, tame to sufferance, bide each cheque,
Without accusing you of injury.
Be where you list,...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
From this world's kitchen crave not to obtain
Those dainties, seeming real, but really vain,
Which greedy worldlings gorge to their own loss;
Renounce that loss, so loss shall prove thy gain!...Read more of this...
by
William Topaz McGonagall
Alas! the people now do sigh and moan
For the loss of Wm. Ewart Gladstone,
Who was a very great politician and a moral man,
And to gainsay it there's few people can.
'Twas in the year of 1898, and on the 19th of May,
When his soul took its flight for ever and aye,
And his body was interred in Westminster Abbey;
But I...Read more of this...
by
Pablo Neruda
Don't go far off, not even for a day
Don't go far off, not even for a day,
Because I don't know how to say it - a day is long
And I will be waiting for you, as in
An empty station when the trains are
Parked off somewhere else, asleep.
Don't leave me, even for an hour, because then
The...Read more of this...
by
Robert William Service
Some poets sing of scenery;
Some to fair maids make sonnets sweet.
A fig for love and greenery,
Be mine a song of things to eat.
Let brother bards divinely dream,
I'm just plain human, as you see;
And choose to carol such a theme
As ham and eggs and tea.
Just two fried eggs or maybe three,
With lacy rims and sunside up,
Pink coral ham and...Read more of this...
by
Adela Florence Cory Nicolson
Give me your self one hour; I do not crave
For any love, or even thought, of me.
Come, as a Sultan may caress a slave
And then forget for ever, utterly.
Come! as west winds, that passing, cool and wet,
...Read more of this...
by
Ben Jonson
XIV. ? TO WILLIAM CAMDEN. CAMDEN ! most reverend head, to whom I owe All that I am in arts, all that I know ; (How nothing's that ?) ; to whom my country owes, The great renown, and name wherewith she goes ! Than thee the age sees not that thing more grave, More high, more holy,...Read more of this...
by
Oscar Wilde
The sin was mine; I did not understand.
So now is music prisoned in her cave,
Save where some ebbing desultory wave
Frets with its restless whirls this meagre strand.
And in the withered hollow of this land
Hath Summer dug herself so deep a grave,
That hardly can the leaden willow crave
One silver blossom from keen Winter's hand.
But who is this who cometh by...Read more of this...
by
Amy Levy
I.
At last; so this is you, my dear!
How should I guess to find you here?
So long, so long, I sought in vain
In many cities, many lands,
With straining eyes and groping hands;
The people marvelled at my pain.
They said: "But sure, the woman's mad;
What ails her, we should like to know,
That she should be so wan and sad,
And silent through the...Read more of this...
by
Sir John Suckling
If you refuse me once, and think again,
I will complain.
You are deceiv'd, love is no work of art,
It must be got and born,
Not made and worn,
By every one that hath a heart.
Or do you think they more than once can die,
Whom you deny?
Who tell you of a thousand deaths a day,
Like the old poets feign
And tell the pain
They met,...Read more of this...
by
Adela Florence Cory Nicolson
The Desert sands are heated, parched and dreary,
The tigers rend alive their quivering prey
In the near Jungle; here the kites rise, weary,
Too gorged with living food to fly away.
All night the hungry jackals howl together
Over the...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
Crave not of worldly sweets to take your fill,
Nor wait on turns of fortune, good or ill;
Be of light heart, as are the skies above,
They roll a round or two, and then lie still....Read more of this...
by
Fannie Isabelle Sherrick
Catching the sunbeams, oh, wee dimpled child,
Gleefully laughing because they are bright;
Knowing, ah! never, my beautiful pet,
Ne'er can our fingers imprison the light.
Beautiful sunshine, oh! fair is the light
Falling on earth from the heavens above;
Beautiful childhood, oh! glad is the sight
Filling the world with its measure of love.
Playing with sunbeams, oh, all...Read more of this...
by
Mercy Otis Warren
Your pardon first I crave for this intrusion.
The topic's such it looks like a delusion;
And next your candour, for I swear and vow,
Such an attempt I never made till now.
But constant laughing at the Desp'rate fate,
The bastard sons of Mars endur'd of late,
Induc'd me thus to minute down the notion,
Which put my risibles in...Read more of this...
by
Victor Hugo
{Oct. 9, 1830.}
When with gigantic hand he placed,
For throne, on vassal Europe based,
That column's lofty height—
Pillar, in whose dread majesty,
In double immortality,
Glory and bronze unite!
Aye, when he built it that, some day,
Discord or war their course might stay,
Or here might break...Read more of this...
by
Adela Florence Cory Nicolson
Alas! alas! this wasted Night
With all its Jasmin-scented air,
Its thousand stars, serenely bright!
I lie alone, and long for you,
Long for your Champa-scented hair,
Your tranquil eyes of twilight hue;
Long for the close-curved, delicate lips
—Their sinuous sweetness laid...Read more of this...
by
Anne Bronte
Believe not those who say
The upward path is smooth,
Lest thou shouldst stumble in the way
And faint before the truth.
It is the only road
Unto the realms of joy;
But he who seeks that blest abode
Must all his powers employ.
Bright hopes and pure delights
Upon his course may beam,
And there amid the sternest heights,
The sweetest flowerets gleam; --
On all her breezes...Read more of this...
by
Paul Laurence Dunbar
I did not know that life could be so sweet,
I did not know the hours could speed so fleet,
Till I knew you, and life was sweet again.
The days grew brief with love and lack of pain—
I was a slave a few short days ago,
The powers of Kings and Princes now I know;
I would not be again in bondage, save
I had...Read more of this...
by
Robert William Service
We pitied him because
He lived alone;
His tiny cottage was
His only own.
His little garden had
A wall around;
Yet never was so glad
A bit of ground.
It seemed to fair rejoice
With flowers and fruit;
With blooms it found a voice
When ours was muts.
It smiled without a pause
In gracious glow:
I think it was because
He loved it so.
He had no news to read,
No rent to pay;
His...Read more of this...
by
Wallace Stevens
Sister and mother and diviner love,
And of the sisterhood of the living dead
Most near, most clear, and of the clearest bloom,
And of the fragrant mothers the most dear
And queen, and of diviner love the day
And flame and summer and sweet fire, no thread
Of cloudy silver sprinkles in your gown
Its venom of renown, and on your head
No crown is simpler...Read more of this...
by
Francesco Petrarch
SONNET CLXXXI. Già desiai con sì giusta querela. HE LIVES DESTITUTE OF ALL HOPE SAVE THAT OF RENDERING HER IMMORTAL. Erewhile I labour'd with complaint so true,And in such fervid rhymes to make me heard,[Pg 196]Seem'd as at last some spark of pity stirr'dIn the hard heart which frost...Read more of this...
by
Ogden Nash
How pleasant to sit on the beach,
On the beach, on the sand, in the sun,
With ocean galore within reach,
And nothing at all to be done!
No letters to answer,
No bills to be burned,
No work to be shirked,
No cash to be earned,
It is pleasant to sit on the beach
With nothing at all to be done!
How pleasant to...Read more of this...
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