Famous Drift Poems by Famous Poets

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

See also:

New England Mind

by Robert Francis
 My mind matches this understand land.
Outdoors the pencilled tree, the wind-carved drift,
Indoors the constant fire, the careful thrift
Are facts that I accept and understand.

I have brought in red berries and green boughs-
Berries of black alder, boughs of pine.
They and the sunlight on them, both are mine.
I need no florist flowers in my house.


Having lived here the years that are...Read more of this...

The Old Swimmin-Hole

by James Whitcomb Riley
 OH! the old swimmin'-hole! whare the crick so still and deep
Looked like a baby-river that was laying half asleep,
And the gurgle of the worter round the drift jest below
Sounded like the laugh of something we onc't ust to know
Before we could remember anything but the eyes
Of the angels lookin' out as we left Paradise;
But the merry days of youth...Read more of this...

At The Abbey Theatre

by William Butler Yeats
 (Imitated from Ronsard)

Dear Craoibhin Aoibhin, look into our case.
When we are high and airy hundreds say
That if we hold that flight they'll leave the place,
While those same hundreds mock another day
Because we have made our art of common things,
So bitterly, you'd dream they longed to look
All their lives through into some drift of wings.
You've dandled them and fed them...Read more of this...

221. Song—The Bonie Lad that's Far Awa

by Robert Burns
 O HOW can I be blythe and glad,
 Or how can I gang brisk and braw,
When the bonie lad that I lo’e best
 Is o’er the hills and far awa!


It’s no the frosty winter wind,
 It’s no the driving drift and snaw;
But aye the tear comes in my e’e,
 To think on him that’s far awa.


My father pat me...Read more of this...

Earliest Spring

by William Dean Howells
 TOSSING his mane of snows in wildest eddies and tangles, 
 Lion-like March cometh in, hoarse, with tempestuous breath, 
Through all the moaning chimneys, and 'thwart all the hollows and 
 angles 
 Round the shuddering house, threating of winter and death. 

But in my heart I feel the life of the wood and the meadow 
 Thrilling the...Read more of this...

Burning Drift-Wood

by John Greenleaf Whittier
Before my drift-wood fire I sit, 
And see, with every waif I burn, 
Old dreams and fancies coloring it, 
And folly's unlaid ghosts return. 

O ships of mine, whose swift keels cleft 
The enchanted sea on which they sailed, 
Are these poor fragments only left 
Of vain desires and hopes that failed? 

Did I not watch from them the light...Read more of this...

The Man From Eldorado

by Robert William Service
 He's the man from Eldorado, and he's just arrived in town,
 In moccasins and oily buckskin shirt.
He's gaunt as any Indian, and pretty nigh as brown;
 He's greasy, and he smells of sweat and dirt.
He sports a crop of whiskers that would shame a healthy hog;
 Hard work has racked his joints and stooped his back;
He slops along the...Read more of this...

Helas!

by Oscar Wilde
 To drift with every passion till my soul
Is a stringed lute on which can winds can play,
Is it for this that I have given away
Mine ancient wisdom and austere control?
Methinks my life is a twice-written scroll
Scrawled over on some boyish holiday
With idle songs for pipe and virelay,
Which do but mar the secret of the whole.
Surely there was a time...Read more of this...

Chance

by Helen Hunt Jackson
 These things wondering I saw beneath the sun: 
That never yet the race was to the swift, 
The fight unto the mightiest to lift, 
Nor favors unto men whose skill had done 
Great works, nor riches ever unto one 
Wise man of understanding. All is drift 
Of time and chance, and none may stay or sift 
Or know the...Read more of this...

The Hero of Rorkes Drift

by William Topaz McGonagall
 Twas at the camp of Rorke's Drift, and at tea-time,
And busily engaged in culinary operations was a private of the line;
But suddenly he paused, for he heard a clattering din,
When instantly two men on horseback drew rein beside him. 

"News from the front!" said one, "Awful news!" said the other,
"Of which, we are afraid, will put us to great...Read more of this...

The Ghosts

by Robert William Service
 Smith, great writer of stories, drank; found it immortalized his pen;
Fused in his brain-pan, else a blank, heavens of glory now and then;
Gave him the magical genius touch; God-given power to gouge out, fling
Flat in your face a soul-thought -- Bing!
Twiddle your heart-strings in his clutch. "Bah!" said Smith, "let my body lie
 stripped to the buff in swinish...Read more of this...

The City Revisited

by Stephen Vincent Benet
 The grey gulls drift across the bay 
Softly and still as flakes of snow 
Against the thinning fog. All day 
I sat and watched them come and go; 
And now at last the sun was set, 
Filling the waves with colored fire 
Till each seemed like a jewelled spire 
Thrust up from some drowned city. Soon 
From peak and...Read more of this...

Trebetherick

by John Betjeman
 We used to picnic where the thrift
Grew deep and tufted to the edge;
We saw the yellow foam flakes drift
In trembling sponges on the ledge
Below us, till the wind would lift
Them up the cliff and o’er the hedge.
Sand in the sandwiches, wasps in the tea,
Sun on our bathing dresses heavy with the wet,
Squelch of the bladder-wrack waiting for the sea,
Fleas...Read more of this...

Inchcape Rock

by Robert Southey
 No stir in the air, no stir in the sea, 
The Ship was still as she could be; 
Her sails from heaven received no motion, 
Her keel was steady in the ocean. 

Without either sign or sound of their shock, 
The waves flow’d over the Inchcape Rock; 
So little they rose, so little they fell, 
They did not move...Read more of this...

Elemental Drifts

by Walt Whitman
 1
ELEMENTAL drifts! 
How I wish I could impress others as you have just been impressing me! 

As I ebb’d with an ebb of the ocean of life, 
As I wended the shores I know, 
As I walk’d where the ripples continually wash you, Paumanok,
Where they rustle up, hoarse and sibilant, 
Where the fierce old mother endlessly cries for her...Read more of this...

The Harpy

by Robert William Service
 There was a woman, and she was wise; woefully wise was she;
She was old, so old, yet her years all told were but a score and three;
And she knew by heart, from finish to start, the Book of Iniquity.

There is no hope for such as I on earth, nor yet in Heaven;
Unloved I live, unloved I die, unpitied, unforgiven;
A...Read more of this...

The Wreck Of The `Derry Castle

by Henry Lawson
 Day of ending for beginnings! 
Ocean hath another innings, 
Ocean hath another score; 
And the surges sing his winnings, 
And the surges shout his winnings, 
And the surges shriek his winnings, 
All along the sullen shore. 

Sing another dirge in wailing, 
For another vessel sailing 
With the shadow-ships at sea; 
Shadow-ships for ever sinking -- 
Shadow-ships whose pumps are...Read more of this...

Cartographies of Silence

by Adrienne Rich
 1.

A conversation begins
with a lie. and each 

speaker of the so-called common language feels
the ice-floe split, the drift apart 

as if powerless, as if up against
a force of nature 

A poem can being
with a lie. And be torn up. 

A conversation has other laws
recharges itself with its own 

false energy, Cannot be torn
up. Infiltrates our blood. Repeats itself. 

Inscribes...Read more of this...

On The Yong Baronett Portman Dying Of An Impostume Ins Head

by William Strode
 Is Death so cunning now that all her blowe
Aymes at the heade? Doth now her wary Bowe
Make surer worke than heertofore? The steele
Slew warlike heroes onely in the heele.
New found out slights, when men themselves begin
To be theyr proper Fates by new found sinne.
Tis cowardize to make a wound so sure;
No Art in killing where no Art can cure.
Was...Read more of this...

Ghosts

by Robert William Service
 I to a crumpled cabin came
upon a hillside high,
And with me was a withered dame
As weariful as I.
"It used to be our home," she said;
"How well I remember well!
Oh that our happy hearth should be
Today an empty shell!"

The door was flailing in the storm
That deafed us with its din;
The roof that kept us once so warm
Now let the snow-drift...Read more of this...

The Moon

by David Berman
 A web of sewer, pipe, and wire connects each house to the others.

In 206 a dog sleeps by the stove where a small gas leak causes him
to have visions; visions that are rooted in nothing but gas.

Next door, a man who has decided to buy a car part by part
excitedly unpacks a wheel and an ashtray.

He arranges them every...Read more of this...

crematorium-return

by Rg Gregory
 (to where the ashes of both
 my parents are strewn)

i)
ok the pair of you lie still
what's disturbing me need pass
no fretful hand over your peace
this world's vicissitudes are stale
fodder for you who feed the grass

some particles of your two dusts
by moon's wish accident or wind
may have leapt that late-life wound
refound in you the rhapsodists
first-married days had twinned

i've come today...Read more of this...

1777

by Amy Lowell
 I
The Trumpet-Vine Arbour
The throats of the little red trumpet-flowers are 
wide open,
And the clangour of brass beats against the hot sunlight.
They bray and blare at the burning sky.
Red! Red! Coarse notes of red,
Trumpeted at the blue sky.
In long streaks of sound, molten metal,
The vine declares itself.
Clang! -- from its red and yellow trumpets.
Clang! -- from its long, nasal trumpets,
Splitting...Read more of this...

The Fire of Drift-Wood

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
We sat within the farm-house old,
  Whose windows, looking o'er the bay,
Gave to the sea-breeze damp and cold,
  An easy entrance, night and day.

Not far away we saw the port,
  The strange, old-fashioned, silent town,
The lighthouse, the dismantled fort,
  The wooden houses, quaint and brown.

We sat and talked until the night,
  Descending, filled the little...Read more of this...

Ibant Obscur?

by Thomas Edward Brown
 To-night I saw three maidens on the beach,
Dark-robed descending to the sea,
So slow, so silent of all speech,
And visible to me
Only by that strange drift-light, dim, forlorn,
Of the sun's wreck and clashing surges born.

Each after other went,
And they were gathered to his breast--
It seemed to me a sacrament
Of some stern creed unblest:
As when to rocks, that cheerless girt the...Read more of this...

Dont forget to view our wonderful member Drift 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