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Famous Crone Poems by Famous Poets

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

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by Sexton, Anne
...attle prods,
the hole in my cheek open.
Further, I must not dream
for when I do I see the table set
and a faltering crone at my place,
her eyes burnt by cigarettes
as she eats betrayal like a slice of meat.

I must not sleep
for while I'm asleep I'm ninety
and think I'm dying.
Death rattles in my throat
like a marble.
I wear tubes like earrings.
I lie as still as a bar of iron.
You can stick a needle
through my kneecap and I won't flinch.
I'm all s...Read more of this...



by Gregory, Rg
...by a dank and ancient coffin
in the gaunt and gloomy hall
alone and sighing deeply
crouched the sorriest crone of all
her worn hands clutched a feather
her eyes were sore with tears
her lips were mumbling slowly
through the burdens of her fears
her clothes were drab and tattered
her body drooped and old
she waited waited waited
her blood let in the cold
she waited waited waited
a chill draught killed her sighs
day slunk down from the windows
night spied with it...Read more of this...

by Hugo, Richard
...r sanctuary there?

Nothing dies as slowly as a scene.
The dusty jukebox cracking through
the cackle of a beered-up crone--
wagered wine--sudden need to dance--
these remain in the black debris.
Although I know in time the lake will send
wind black enough to blow it all away....Read more of this...

by Service, Robert William
...low face, careworn and yellow.
With furtive feet before our seat
He came to a respectful stand,
And bowed, my sorry crone to greet,
Saying: "Princess, I kiss your hand." 

She gave him such a gracious smile,
And bade him linger by her side;
So there they talked a little while
Of kingly pomp and country pride;
Of Marquis This and Prince von That,
Of Old Vienna, glamour gay. . . .
Then sad he rose and raised his hat:
Saying: "My tables I must lay." 
...Read more of this...

by Laurence Dunbar, Paul
...riefs and heart-aches we have known
Come up like pois'nous vapors that arise
From some base witch's caldron, when the crone,
To work some potent spell, her magic plies.
The past which held its share of bitter pain,
Whose ghost we prayed that Time might exorcise,
Comes up, is lived and suffered o'er again,
Ere sleep comes down to soothe the weary eyes.
Ere sleep comes down to soothe the weary eyes,
What phantoms fill the dimly lighted room;
What ghostly shades in awe...Read more of this...



by Hugo, Victor
...—we will obey. 
 Oh, mercy!—'tis for mercy now we pray." 
 "Behold us at your feet, oh, spectre dread!" 
 And no old crone in feebler voice could plead 
 Than Ladisläus did. 
 
 But not a word 
 Said now the figure motionless, with sword 
 In hand. This sovereign soul seemed to commune 
 With self beneath his metal sheath; yet soon 
 And suddenly, with tranquil voice said he, 
 "Princes, your craven spirit wearies me. 
 No phantom—only man am I. Arise! 
 I like n...Read more of this...

by Sexton, Anne
...going.
An old woman calls up to you
from her deathbed deep in sores,
asking, "What do you keep of her?"
She is the crone in the fables.
She is the fool at the supper
and you, sir, are the traveler.
Although you are in a hurry
you stop to open a small basket
and under layers of petticoats
you show her the tiger-striped eyes
that you have lately plucked,
you show her specialty, the lips,
those two small bundles,
you show her the two hands
that grip her fiercely,
on...Read more of this...

by Dunbar, William
...and in strenuytie; 
 Of royall cities rose and geraflour; 
 Empress of townes, exalt in honour; 
In beawtie beryng the crone imperiall; 
 Swete paradise precelling in pleasure; 
London, thou art the flour of Cities all. 

Above all ryvers thy Ryver hath renowne, 
 Whose beryall stremys, pleasaunt and preclare, 
Under thy lusty wallys renneth down, 
 Where many a swan doth swymme with wyngis fair; 
 Where many a barge doth saile and row with are; 
Where many a ship doth r...Read more of this...

by Frost, Robert
...ind to die in state.

Make the whole stock exchange your own!
If need be occupy a throne,
Where nobody can call you crone.

Some have relied on what they knew;
Others on simply being true.
What worked for them might work for you.

No memory of having starred
Atones for later disregard,
Or keeps the end from being hard.

Better to go down dignified
With boughten friendship at your side
Than none at all. Provide, provide!...Read more of this...

by Hardy, Thomas
...e of grenadiers, 
And the blood of forty hundred 
Splashed its parapets and piers . . . 

VII 

Any ancient crone I'd toady 
Like a lass in young-eyed prime, 
Could she tell some tale of Lodi 
At that moving mighty time. 

VIII 

So, I ask the wives of Lodi 
For traditions of that day; 
But alas! not anybody 
Seems to know of such a fray. 

IX 

And they heed but transitory 
Marketings in cheese and meat, 
Till I judge that Lodi's story 
Is extinct in Lodi...Read more of this...

by Keats, John
...r>"

 Feebly she laugheth in the languid moon,
 While Porphyro upon her face doth look,
 Like puzzled urchin on an aged crone
 Who keepeth clos'd a wond'rous riddle-book,
 As spectacled she sits in chimney nook.
 But soon his eyes grew brilliant, when she told
 His lady's purpose; and he scarce could brook
 Tears, at the thought of those enchantments cold,
And Madeline asleep in lap of legends old.

 Sudden a thought came like a full-blown rose,
 Flushing his brow, an...Read more of this...

by Browning, Robert
...t life was and sorrow,
She, foolish to-day, would be wiser tomorrow;
And who so fit a teacher of trouble
As this sordid crone bent well-nigh double?
So, glancing at her wolf-skin vesture,
(If such it was, for they grow so hirsute
That their own fleece serves for natural fur-suit)
He was contrasting, 'twas plain from his gesture,
The life of the lady so flower-like and delicate
With the loathsome squalor of this helicat.
I, in brief, was the man the Duke beckoned
From out ...Read more of this...

by Emerson, Ralph Waldo
...r of the underwoods  
The green silence dost displace 30 
With thy mellow breezy bass. 

Hot midsummer's petted crone  
Sweet to me thy drowsy tone 
Tells of countless sunny hours  
Long days and solid banks of flowers; 35 
Of gulfs of sweetness without bound 
In Indian wildernesses found; 
Of Syrian peace immortal leisure  
Firmest cheer and bird-like pleasure. 
Aught unsavory or unclean 40 
Hath my insect never seen; 
But violets and bilberry bells  
...Read more of this...

by Chaucer, Geoffrey
...and sticked* at the board, *cut to pieces*
But it were only Dame Constance alone.
This olde Soudaness, this cursed crone,
Had with her friendes done this cursed deed,
For she herself would all the country lead.

Nor there was Syrian that was converted,
That of the counsel of the Soudan wot*, *knew
That was not all to-hewn, ere he asterted*: *escaped
And Constance have they ta'en anon foot-hot*, *immediately
And in a ship all steereless,* God wot, *without rudder
They...Read more of this...

by Plath, Sylvia
...lizard,
Himself withered these latter-days
To leaf-size from lack of action:
History's beaten the hazard.

The last crone got burnt up
More than eight decades back
With the love-hot herb, the talking cat,
But the children are better for it,
The cow milks cream an inch thick....Read more of this...

by Dunbar, William
...d in strenuytie;
Of royall cities rose and geraflour;
Empresse of town{.e}s, exalt in honour;
In beawtie beryng the crone imperiall;
Swete paradise precelling in pleasure:
London, thow art the floure of Cities all.

Above all ryvers thy Ryver hath renowne,
Whose beryall stremys, pleasaunt and preclare,
Under thy lusty wallys renneth down,
Where many a swanne doth swymme with wyngis fare;
Where many a barge doth saile, and row with are,
Where many a ship doth rest with...Read more of this...

by Yeats, William Butler
...'She will change,' I cried.
'Into a withered crone.'
The heart in my side,
That so still had lain,
In noble rage replied
And beat upon the bone:

'Uplift those eyes and throw
Those glances unafraid:
She would as bravely show
Did all the fabric fade;
No withered crone I saw
Before the world was made.'

Abashed by that report,
For the heart cannot lie,
I knelt in the dirt.
And all shall bend ...Read more of this...

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Book: Shattered Sighs