Famous Ebb Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Swing high and swing low

by Eugene Field
 Swing high and swing low
While the breezes they blow -
It's off for a sailor thy father would go;
And it's here in the harbor, in sight of the sea,
He hath left his wee babe with my song and with me:
"Swing high and swing low
While the breezes they blow!"

Swing high and swing low
While the breezes they blow -
It's oh for the...Read more of this...

Belly Good

by Marge Piercy
 A heap of wheat, says the Song of Songs 
but I've never seen wheat in a pile. 
Apples, potatoes, cabbages, carrots 
make lumpy stacks, but you are sleek 
as a seal hauled out in the winter sun. 
I can see you as a great goose egg 
or a single juicy and fully ripe peach. 
You swell like a natural...Read more of this...

Time

by Percy Bysshe Shelley
 Unfathomable Sea! whose waves are years,
Ocean of Time, whose waters of deep woe
Are brackish with the salt of human tears!
Thou shoreless flood, which in thy ebb and flow
Claspest the limits of mortality,
And sick of prey, yet howling on for more,
Vomitest thy wrecks on its inhospitable shore;
Treacherous in calm, and terrible in storm,
Who shall put forth on thee,
Unfathomable Sea?...Read more of this...

Ebb

by Edna St. Vincent Millay
 I know what my heart is like
Since your love died:
It is like a hollow ledge
Holding a little pool
Left there by the tide,
A little tepid pool,
Drying inward from the edge....Read more of this...

486. Song—Inconstancy in love

by Robert Burns
 LET not Woman e’er complain
 Of inconstancy in love;
Let not Woman e’er complain
 Fickle Man is apt to rove:
Look abroad thro’ Nature’s range,
Nature’s mighty Law is change,
Ladies, would it not seem strange
 Man should then a monster prove!


Mark the winds, and mark the skies,
 Ocean’s ebb, and ocean’s flow,
Sun and moon but set to rise,
 Round and round the...Read more of this...

Dover Beach

by Matthew Arnold
The sea is calm to-night.
The tide is full, the moon lies fair
Upon the straits; on the French coast the light
Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand,
Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!
Only, from the long line of spray
Where the sea meets the moon-blanch'd land,
Listen! you hear the grating roar
Of pebbles...Read more of this...

Nocturne Of Remembered Spring

by Conrad Aiken
 I. 

Moonlight silvers the tops of trees,
Moonlight whitens the lilac shadowed wall
And through the evening fall,
Clearly, as if through enchanted seas,
Footsteps passing, an infinite distance away,
In another world and another day.
Moonlight turns the purple lilacs blue,
Moonlight leaves the fountain hoar and old,
And the boughs of elms grow green and cold,
Our footsteps echo on gleaming stones,
The leaves are stirred to...Read more of this...

Poppies on the Wheat

by Helen Hunt Jackson
 Along Ancona's hills the shimmering heat, 
A tropic tide of air with ebb and flow 
Bathes all the fields of wheat until they glow 
Like flashing seas of green, which toss and beat 
Around the vines. The poppies lithe and fleet 
Seem running, fiery torchmen, to and fro 
To mark the shore. 
The farmer does not know 
That they...Read more of this...

A Thought For A Lonely Death-Bed

by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
 IF God compel thee to this destiny,
To die alone, with none beside thy bed
To ruffle round with sobs thy last word said
And mark with tears the pulses ebb from thee,--
Pray then alone, ' O Christ, come tenderly !
By thy forsaken Sonship in the red
Drear wine-press,--by the wilderness out-spread,--
And the lone garden where thine agony
Fell bloody from thy brow,--by all...Read more of this...

To My Antenor

by Katherine Philips
 My dear Antenor now give o're,
For my sake talk of Graves no more;
Death is not in our power to gain,
And is both wish'd and fear'd in vain
Let's be as angry as wee will,
Grief sooner may distract then kill,
And the unhappy often prove
Death is as coy a thing as Love.
Those whose own sword their death did give,
Afraid were or asham'd...Read more of this...

Penmaen Pool

by Gerard Manley Hopkins
 For the Visitors' Book at the Inn


Who long for rest, who look for pleasure
Away from counter, court, or school
O where live well your lease of leisure
But here at, here at Penmaen Pool? 
You'll dare the Alp? you'll dart the skiff?— 
Each sport has here its tackle and tool:
Come, plant the staff by Cadair cliff;
Come, swing the sculls on Penmaen...Read more of this...

Trilogy of Passion: II. ELEGY

by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
 When man had ceased to utter his lament,

 A god then let me tell my tale of sorrow.

WHAT hope of once more meeting is there now
In the still-closed blossoms of this day?
Both heaven and hell thrown open seest thou;
What wav'ring thoughts within the bosom play
No longer doubt! Descending from the sky,
She lifts thee in her arms to realms on...Read more of this...

Douglass

by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Ah, Douglass, we have fall'n on evil days,
Such days as thou, not even thou didst know,
When thee, the eyes of that harsh long ago
Saw, salient, at the cross of devious ways,
And all the country heard thee with amaze.
Not ended then, the passionate ebb and flow,
The awful tide that battled to and fro;
We ride amid a tempest of dispraise.
Now, when the...Read more of this...

The Singing-Woman from the Woods Edge

by Edna St. Vincent Millay
 What should I be but a prophet and a liar,
Whose mother was a leprechaun, whose father was a friar?
Teethed on a crucifix and cradled under water,
What should I be but the fiend's god-daughter?

And who should be my playmates but the adder and the frog,
That was got beneath a furze-bush and born in a bog?
And what should be my singing,...Read more of this...

Charity

by Victor Hugo
 ("Je suis la Charité.") 
 
 {February, 1837.} 


 "Lo! I am Charity," she cries, 
 "Who waketh up before the day; 
 While yet asleep all nature lies, 
 God bids me rise and go my way." 
 
 How fair her glorious features shine, 
 Whereon the hand of God hath set 
 An angel's attributes divine,...Read more of this...

The Sycamores

by John Greenleaf Whittier
 In the outskirts of the village 
On the river's winding shores 
Stand the Occidental plane-trees, 
Stand the ancient sycamores. 

One long century hath been numbered, 
And another half-way told 
Since the rustic Irish gleeman 
Broke for them the virgin mould. 

Deftly set to Celtic music 
At his violin's sound they grew, 
Through the moonlit eves of summer, 
Making Amphion's...Read more of this...

Dream Song 109: She mentioned worthless and he took it in

by John Berryman
 She mentioned 'worthless' & he took it in,
degraded Henry, at the ebb of love-”
O at the end of love-”
in undershorts, with visitors, whereof
we can say their childlessness is ending. Love
finally took over,

after their two adopted: she has a month to go
and Henry has (perhaps) many months to go
until another Spring
wakens another Henry, with far to go;
far to go, pal.
My...Read more of this...

Miss Loo

by Walter de la Mare
 When thin-strewn memory I look through, 
I see most clearly poor Miss Loo, 
Her tabby cat, her cage of birds, 
Her nose, her hair -- her muffled words, 
And how she'd open her green eyes, 
As if in some immense surprise, 
Whenever as we sat at tea, 
She made some small remark to me. 

It's always drowsy summer when...Read more of this...

Ignorant Before The Heavens Of My Life

by Rainer Maria Rilke
 Ignorant before the heavens of my life,
I stand and gaze in wonder. Oh the vastness
of the stars. Their rising and descent. How still.
As if I didn't exist. Do I have any
share in this? Have I somehow dispensed with
their pure effect? Does my blood's ebb and flow
change with their changes? Let me put aside
every desire, every relationship
except this one, so...Read more of this...

Ii

by Victor Hugo
 But he saw nothing; space was black—no sound. 
 "Forward," said Canute, raising his proud head. 
 There fell a second stain beside the first, 
 Then it grew larger, and the Cimbrian chief 
 Stared at the thick vague darkness, and saw naught. 
 Still as a bloodhound follows on his track, 
 Sad he went on. 'There...Read more of this...

Give Me Back My Rags #4

by Vasko Popa
 Get out of my walled infinity
Of the star circle round my heart
Of my mouthful of sun

Get out of the comic sea of my blood
Of my flow of my ebb
Get out of my stranded silence

Get out I said get out

Get out of my living abyss
Of the bare father-tree within me

Get out how long must I cry get out

Get out of...Read more of this...

Daft

by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
 In the warm yellow smile of the morning, 
She stands at the lattice pane, 
And watches the strong young binders
Stride down to the fields of grain.
And she counts them over and over
As they pass her cottage door: 
Are they six, she counts them seven; 
Are they seven, she counts one more.

When the sun swings high in the heavens, 
And...Read more of this...

In Cabin'd Ships at Sea

by Walt Whitman
 1
IN cabin’d ships, at sea, 
The boundless blue on every side expanding, 
With whistling winds and music of the waves—the large imperious waves—In
 such, 
Or some lone bark, buoy’d on the dense marine, 
Where, joyous, full of faith, spreading white sails,
She cleaves the ether, mid the sparkle and the foam of day, or under many a star
 at night,...Read more of this...

Old

by Paul Laurence Dunbar
 I have seen peoples come and go 
Alike the Ocean'd ebb and flow; 
I have seen kingdoms rise and fall 
Like springtime shadows on a wall. 
I have seen houses rendered great 
That grew from life's debased estate, 
And all, all, all is change I see, 
So, dearest God, take me, take me....Read more of this...

Sonnet III

by Francesco Petrarch
SONNET III. Era 'l giorno ch' al sol si scoloraro. HE BLAMES LOVE FOR WOUNDING HIM ON A HOLY DAY (GOOD FRIDAY).  'Twas on the morn, when heaven its blessed rayIn pity to its suffering master veil'd,First did I, Lady, to your beauty yield,Of your victorious eyes th' unguarded prey.Ah! little...Read more of this...

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