Famous Face Poems by Famous Poets
These are examples of famous Face poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous face poems. These examples illustrate what a famous face poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).
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by
Walt Whitman
BEHOLD this swarthy face—these gray eyes,
This beard—the white wool, unclipt upon my neck,
My brown hands, and the silent manner of me, without charm;
Yet comes one, a Manhattanese, and ever at parting, kisses me lightly on the lips with
robust
love,
And I, on the crossing of the street, or on the ship’s deck, give a kiss...Read more of this...
by
Judith Skillman
Poem by Anne-Marie Derése, translated by Judith Skillman.
I don't know who you're hiding
behind your mask,
your face stolen from a bird,
imprisoned by red ashes.
I will love you the way one dies.
I will keep you
for years to come,
you will be so tame,
so unbelievable,
my strange animal,
with your lips opening
on a lost smile.
I'll drink your breath
and I'll know who you...Read more of this...
by
Kobayashi Issa
Face of the spring moon--
about twelve years old,
I'd say....Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
But little Carmine hath her face --
Of Emerald scant -- her Gown --
Her Beauty -- is the love she doth --
Itself -- exhibit -- Mine --...Read more of this...
by
William Shakespeare
Look in thy glass, and tell the face thou viewest
Now is the time that face should form another;
Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest,
Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.
For where is she so fair whose unear'd womb
Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?
Or who is he so fond will be the...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
Her face was in a bed of hair,
Like flowers in a plot --
Her hand was whiter than the sperm
That feeds the sacred light.
Her tongue more tender than the tune
That totters in the leaves --
Who hears may be incredulous,
Who witnesses, believes....Read more of this...
by
Robert Burns
IT is na, Jean, thy bonie face,
Nor shape that I admire;
Altho’ thy beauty and thy grace
Might weel awauk desire.
Something, in ilka part o’ thee,
To praise, to love, I find,
But dear as is thy form to me,
Still dearer is thy mind.
Nae mair ungenerous wish I hae,
Nor stronger in my breast,
Than, if I canna make thee...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
Sweet is the breath of Spring to rose's face,
And thy sweet face adds charm to this fair place;
To-day is sweet, but yesterday is sad,
And sad all mention of its parted grace....Read more of this...
by
Christopher Marlowe
Was this the face that launch'd a thousand ships,
And burnt the topless towers of Ilium?
Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss.
Her lips suck forth my soul: see where it flies!
Come, Helen, come, give me my soul again.
Here will I dwell, for heaven is in these lips,
And all is dross that is not Helena.
I will be Paris, and for...Read more of this...
by
Rainer Maria Rilke
World was in the face of the beloved--,
but suddenly it poured out and was gone:
world is outside, world can not be grasped.
Why didn't I, from the full, beloved face
as I raised it to my lips, why didn't I drink
world, so near that I couldn't almost taste it?
Ah, I drank. Insatiably I drank.
But I was filled up also, with too...Read more of this...
by
Edna St. Vincent Millay
I know the face of Falsehood and her Tongue
Honeyed with unction, Plausible with guile,
Are dear to men, whom count me not among,
That owe their daily credit to her smile;
Such have been succoured out of great distress
By her contriving, if accounts be true:
Their deference now above the board, I guess,
Dishcharges what beneath the board is due.
As for myself, I'd liefer...Read more of this...
by
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
The face of all the world is changed, I think,
Since first I heard the footsteps of thy soul
Move still, oh, still, beside me, as they stole
Betwixt me and the dreadful outer brink
Of obvious death, where I, who thought to sink,
Was caught up into love, and taught the whole
Of life in a new rhythm. The cup of dole
God gave for...Read more of this...
by
John Berryman
Your face broods from my table, Suicide.
Your force came on like a torrent toward the end
of agony and wrath.
You were christened in the beginning Sylvia Plath
and changed that name for Mrs Hughes and bred
and went on round the bend
till the oven seemed the proper place for you.
I brood upon your face, the geography of grief,
hooded, till I allow
again your...Read more of this...
by
Denise Duhamel
is what we called her. The story was
that her father had thrown Drano at her
which was probably true, given the way she slouched
through fifth grade, afraid of the world, recess
especially. She had acne scars
before she had acne—poxs and dips
and bright red patches.
I don't remember
any report in the papers. I don't remember
my father telling me her father had gone...Read more of this...
by
Rabindranath Tagore
Day after day, O lord of my life,
shall I stand before thee face to face.
With folded hands, O lord of all worlds,
shall I stand before thee face to face.
Under thy great sky in solitude and silence,
with humble heart shall I stand before thee face to face.
In this laborious world of thine, tumultuous with...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
Not in this World to see his face --
Sounds long -- until I read the place
Where this -- is said to be
But just the Primer -- to a life --
Unopened -- rare -- Upon the Shelf --
Clasped yet -- to Him -- and Me --
And yet -- My Primer suits me so
I would not choose -- a Book to...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
Me! Come! My dazzled face
In such a shining place!
Me! Hear! My foreign ear
The sounds of welcome near!
The saints shall meet
Our bashful feet.
My holiday shall be
That they remember me;
My paradise, the fame
That they pronounce my name....Read more of this...
by
William Bronk
This boy, of course, was dead, whatever that
might mean. And nobly dead. I think we should feel
he was nobly dead. He fell in battle, perhaps,
and this carved stone remembers him
not as he may have looked, but as if to define
the naked virtue the stone describes as his.
One foot is forward, the eyes look out, the...Read more of this...
by
Jack Prelutsky
Be glad your nose is on your face,
not pasted on some other place,
for if it were where it is not,
you might dislike your nose a lot.
Imagine if your precious nose
were sandwiched in between your toes,
that clearly would not be a treat,
for you'd be forced to smell your feet.
Your nose would be a source of dread
were it attached atop your...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
Me! Come! My dazzled face
In such a shining place!
Me! Hear! My foreign ear
The sounds of welcome near!
The saints shall meet
Our bashful feet.
My holiday shall be
That they remember me;
My paradise, the fame
That they pronounce my name....Read more of this...
by
George William Russell
NOT her own sorrow only that hath place
Upon yon gentle face.
Too slight have been her childhood’s years to gain
The imprint of such pain.
It hid behind her laughing hours, and wrought
Each curve in saddest thought
On brow and lips and eyes. With subtle art
It made that little heart
Through its young joyous beatings to prepare
A quiet shelter there,
Where the immortal sorrows might...Read more of this...
by
William Shakespeare
Look in thy glass, and tell the face thou viewest
Now is the time that face should form another,
Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest,
Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.
For where is she so fair whose uneared womb
Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?
Or who is he so fond will be the tomb
Of his self-love to stop posterity?
Thou...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
Now in thick clouds Thy face Thou dost immerse,
And now display it in this universe;
Thou the spectator, Thou the spectacle,
Sole to Thyself Thy glories dost rehearse....Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
We shun because we prize her Face
Lest sight's ineffable disgrace
Our Adoration stain...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
O rose! thou art the face of some young ravishing
fair! O wine! thou art the ruby whose brightness joys
my soul! O fateful fortune! each instant thou appearest
more strange to me, and nevertheless I seem to know
thee.
378...Read more of this...
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