Famous Depths Of My Soul Poems by Famous Poets

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

See also:

Enslaved

by Claude McKay
 Oh when I think of my long-suffering race,
For weary centuries despised, oppressed,
Enslaved and lynched, denied a human place
In the great life line of the Christian West;
And in the Black Land disinherited,
Robbed in the ancient country of its birth,
My heart grows sick with hate, becomes as lead,
For this my race that has no home on earth.
Then from the dark depths...Read more of this...

Artilleryman's Vision The

by Walt Whitman
 WHILE my wife at my side lies slumbering, and the wars are over long, 
And my head on the pillow rests at home, and the vacant midnight passes, 
And through the stillness, through the dark, I hear, just hear, the breath of my infant, 
There in the room, as I wake from sleep, this vision presses upon me: 
The...Read more of this...

Tortoise Shout

by D. H. Lawrence
 I thought he was dumb, said he was dumb,
Yet I've heard him cry.
First faint scream,
Out of life's unfathomable dawn,
Far off, so far, like a madness, under the horizon's dawning rim,
Far, far off, far scream.
Tortoise in extremis.
Why were we crucified into sex?
Why were we not left rounded off, and finished in ourselves,
As we began,
As he certainly began, so perfectly alone?

A...Read more of this...

Back Home

by Vladimir Mayakovsky
 Thoughts, go your way home.
Embrace,
 depths of the soul and the sea.
In my view,
 it is
 stupid
to be
 always serene.
My cabin is the worst
 of all cabins - 
All night above me
 Thuds a smithy of feet.
All night,
 stirring the ceiling’s calm,
dancers stampede
 to a moaning motif:
“Marquita,
 Marquita,
Marquita my darling,
why won’t you,
 Marquita,
why won’t you love me …”
But why
...Read more of this...

Sunday up the River

by James Thomson
 MY love o'er the water bends dreaming; 
 It glideth and glideth away: 
She sees there her own beauty, gleaming 
 Through shadow and ripple and spray. 

O tell her, thou murmuring river, 
 As past her your light wavelets roll, 
How steadfast that image for ever 
 Shines pure in pure depths of my soul....Read more of this...

Dont forget to view our wonderful member Depths Of My Soul poems.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace