Famous Drips Poems by Famous Poets

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

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The Poplar

by Richard Aldington
 Why do you always stand there shivering 
Between the white stream and the road? 

The people pass through the dust 
On bicycles, in carts, in motor-cars; 
The waggoners go by at down; 
The lovers walk on the grass path at night. 

Stir from your roots, walk, poplar! 
You are more beautiful than they are. 

I know that the white...Read more of this...

A Journey Through The Moonlight

by Russell Edson
 In sleep when an old man's body is no longer 
aware of his boundaries, and lies flattened by 
gravity like a mere of wax in its bed . . . It drips 
down to the floor and moves there like a tear down a 
cheek . . . Under the back door into the silver meadow, 
like a pool...Read more of this...

Oh Gray And Tender Is The Rain

by Lizette Woodworth Reese
 Oh, gray and tender is the rain,
That drips, drips on the pane!
A hundred things come in the door,
The scent of herbs, the thought of yore.

I see the pool out in the grass,
A bit of broken glass;
The red flags running wet and straight,
Down to the little flapping gate.

Lombardy poplars tall and three,
Across the road I see;
There is no loveliness so...Read more of this...

LEnvoi

by Robert William Service
 Only a rhymer, so I am,
 Lone in the market place;
I shrink, and no one cares a damn
 Though tears corrode my face.
The hollows of my cheeks they track,
 Symbolic of vain hope;
My hands are grimed because I lack
 The price of soap.

Only a rhymer! How my breeks
 Let in the Winter wind;
One of my shoes obscenely leaks,
 My...Read more of this...

Apologia Pro Poemate Meo

by Wilfred Owen
 I, too, saw God through mud --
 The mud that cracked on cheeks when wretches smiled.
 War brought more glory to their eyes than blood,
 And gave their laughs more glee than shakes a child.

Merry it was to laugh there --
 Where death becomes absurd and life absurder.
 For power was on us as we slashed bones bare
 Not...Read more of this...

The Bridge of Sighs

by Thomas Hood
 One more Unfortunate, 
Weary of breath, 
Rashly importunate, 
Gone to her death! 

Take her up tenderly, 
Lift her with care; 
Fashion'd so slenderly 
Young, and so fair! 

Look at her garments 
Clinging like cerements; 
Whilst the wave constantly 
Drips from her clothing; 
Take her up instantly, 
Loving, not loathing. 

Touch her not scornfully; 
Think of her mournfully, 
Gently and...Read more of this...

In Lupum

by Robert Louis Stevenson
 BEYOND the gates thou gav'st a field to till;
I have a larger on my window-sill.
A farm, d'ye say? Is this a farm to you,
Where for all woods I spay one tuft of rue,
And that so rusty, and so small a thing,
One shrill cicada hides it with a wing;
Where one cucumber covers all the plain;
And where one serpent rings himself...Read more of this...

Fight

by Carl Sandburg
 RED drips from my chin where I have been eating.
Not all the blood, nowhere near all, is wiped off my mouth.

Clots of red mess my hair
And the tiger, the buffalo, know how.

I was a killer.
Yes, I am a killer.

I come from killing.
I go to more.
I drive red joy ahead of me from killing.
Red gluts and red hungers run in...Read more of this...

A Retrospect Of Humidity

by Les Murray
 All the air conditioners now slacken
their hummed carrier wave. Once again
we've served our three months with remissions
in the steam and dry iron of this seaboard.
In jellied glare, through the nettle-rash season
we've watched the sky's fermenting laundry
portend downpours. Some came, and steamed away,
and we were clutched back into the rancid
saline midnights of orifice weather,
to damp grittiness and wiping off the...Read more of this...

Mystery

by D. H. Lawrence
 Now I am all
One bowl of kisses,
Such as the tall
Slim votaresses
Of Egypt filled
For a God's excesses.

I lift to you
My bowl of kisses,
And through the temple's
Blue recesses
Cry out to you
In wild caresses.

And to my lips'
Bright crimson rim
The passion slips,
And down my slim
White body drips
The shining hymn.

And still before
The altar I
Exult the bowl
Brimful, and cry
To you to stoop
And drink, Most High.

Oh...Read more of this...

Sweet Love Sweet Thorn When Lightly To My Heart

by Edna St. Vincent Millay
 Sweet love, sweet thorn, when lightly to my heart
I took your thrust, whereby I since am slain,
And lie disheveled in the grass apart,
A sodden thing bedrenched by tears and rain,
While rainy evening drips to misty night,
And misty night to cloudy morning clears,
And clouds disperse across the gathering light,
And birds grow noisy, and the sun appears
Had I bethought me then,...Read more of this...

The Ripest Peach

by James Whitcomb Riley
 The ripest peach is highest on the tree -- 
And so her love, beyond the reach of me, 
Is dearest in my sight. Sweet breezes, bow 
Her heart down to me where I worship now! 

She looms aloft where every eye may see 
The ripest peach is highest on the tree. 
Such fruitage as her love I know, alas!...Read more of this...

Day of These Days

by Laurie Lee
 Such a morning it is when love
leans through geranium windows
and calls with a cockerel's tongue.

When red-haired girls scamper like roses
over the rain-green grass;
and the sun drips honey.

When hedgerows grow venerable,
berries dry black as blood,
and holes suck in their bees.

Such a morning it is when mice
run whispering from the church,
dragging dropped ears of harvest.

When the partridge draws back his spring
and...Read more of this...

Under the Harvest Moon

by Carl Sandburg
 Under the harvest moon,
When the soft silver
Drips shimmering
Over the garden nights,
Death, the gray mocker,
Comes and whispers to you
As a beautiful friend
Who remembers.

 Under the summer roses
When the flagrant crimson
Lurks in the dusk
Of the wild red leaves,
Love, with little hands,
Comes and touches you
With a thousand memories,
And asks you
Beautiful, unanswerable questions....Read more of this...

In a Castle

by Amy Lowell
 I
Over the yawning chimney hangs the fog. Drip 
-- hiss -- drip -- hiss --
fall the raindrops on the oaken log which burns, and steams,
and smokes the ceiling beams. Drip -- hiss -- the rain 
never stops.

The wide, state bed shivers beneath its velvet coverlet. Above, 
dim,
in the smoke, a tarnished coronet gleams dully. Overhead 
hammers and chinks
the rain....Read more of this...

Gloire de Dijon

by D. H. Lawrence
 When she rises in the morning 
I linger to watch her; 
She spreads the bath-cloth underneath the window 
And the sunbeams catch her 
Glistening white on the shoulders, 
While down her sides the mellow 
Golden shadow glows as 
She stoops to the sponge, and her swung breasts 
Sway like full-blown yellow 
Gloire de Dijon roses. 

She drips herself with...Read more of this...

Love in Twilight

by Stephen Vincent Benet
 There is darkness behind the light -- and the pale light drips 
Cold on vague shapes and figures, that, half-seen loom 
Like the carven prows of proud, far-triumphing ships -- 
And the firelight wavers and changes about the room, 

As the three logs crackle and burn with a small still sound; 
Half-blotting with dark the deeper dark of her...Read more of this...

The White Peacock

by Stephen Vincent Benet
 (France -- Ancient Regime.) 

I.

Go away! 
Go away; I will not confess to you! 
His black biretta clings like a hangman's cap; under his twitching fingers the beads shiver and click, 
As he mumbles in his corner, the shadow deepens upon him; 
I will not confess! . . . 

Is he there or is it intenser shadow? 
Dark huddled...Read more of this...

The True Lover

by A E Housman
 The lad came to the door at night, 
When lovers crown their vows, 
And whistled soft and out of sight 
In shadow of the boughs. 

"I shall not vex you with my face 
Henceforth, my love, for aye; 
So take me in your arms a space 
Before the cast is grey. 

"When I from hence away am past 
I...Read more of this...

April Rise

by Laurie Lee
 If ever I saw blessing in the air 
I see it now in this still early day 
Where lemon-green the vaporous morning drips 
Wet sunlight on the powder of my eye. 

Blown bubble-film of blue, the sky wraps round 
Weeds of warm light whose every root and rod 
Splutters with soapy green, and all the world 
Sweats with the...Read more of this...

The Wizard Way

by Aleister Crowley
 [Dedicated to General J.C.F. Fuller]


Velvet soft the night-star glowed 
Over the untrodden road, 
Through the giant glades of yew 
Where its ray fell light as dew 
Lighting up the shimmering veil 
Maiden pure and aery frail 
That the spiders wove to hide 
Blushes of the sylvan bride 
Earth, that trembled with delight 
At the male caress of Night. 

Velvet...Read more of this...

thought for the ordinary

by Rg Gregory
 be moved by your own time
but move it too
the sun hasn't all the answers
it can be made to listen to you

however adamant the pavement
it's a book of feet
though they need it to take them through town
people control the street

from the irreproachable mountain
wisdom drips down
spray it with your own salt
manacled clown...Read more of this...

Morning Song Of Senlin

by Conrad Aiken
 from Senlin: A Biography 


It is morning, Senlin says, and in the morning 
When the light drips through the shutters like the dew, 
I arise, I face the sunrise, 
And do the things my fathers learned to do. 
Stars in the purple dusk above the rooftops 
Pale in a saffron mist and seem to die, 
And I myself on...Read more of this...

Ode On The Insurrection In Candia

by Algernon Charles Swinburne
 STR. 1

I laid my laurel-leaf
At the white feet of grief,
Seeing how with covered face and plumeless wings,
With unreverted head
Veiled, as who mourns his dead,
Lay Freedom couched between the thrones of kings,
A wearied lion without lair,
And bleeding from base wounds, and vexed with alien air.

STR. 2

Who was it, who, put poison to thy mouth,
Who lulled with craft or chant thy...Read more of this...

Ave atque Vale (In memory of Charles Baudelaire)

by Algernon Charles Swinburne
 SHALL I strew on thee rose or rue or laurel, 
 Brother, on this that was the veil of thee? 
 Or quiet sea-flower moulded by the sea, 
Or simplest growth of meadow-sweet or sorrel, 
 Such as the summer-sleepy Dryads weave, 
 Waked up by snow-soft sudden rains at eve? 
Or wilt thou rather, as on earth before,...Read more of this...

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