Famous Fellow Poems by Famous Poets

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

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I Told You

by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
 I told you the winter would go, love, 
I told you the winter would go, 
That he'd flee in shame when the south wind came, 
And you smiled when I told you so.
You said the blustering fellow
Would never yield to a breeze, 
That his cold, icy breath had frozen to death
The flowers, the birds, and trees.

And I told you...Read more of this...

Atalanta In Camden -Town

by Lewis Carroll
 AY, 'twas here, on this spot,
In that summer of yore,
Atalanta did not
Vote my presence a bore,
Nor reply to my tenderest talk "She had
heard all that nonsense before." 

She'd the brooch I had bought
And the necklace and sash on,
And her heart, as I thought,
Was alive to my passion;
And she'd done up her hair in the style that
the Empress had brought...Read more of this...

Sonnet CLXVII

by Francesco Petrarch
SONNET CLXVII. Non pur quell' una bella ignuda mano. HE RETURNS THE GLOVE, BEWAILING THE EFFECT OF HER BEAUTY.  Not of one dear hand only I complain,Which hides it, to my loss, again from view,But its fair fellow and her soft arms tooAre prompt my meek and passive heart to pain.Love...Read more of this...

An Absolutely Ordinary Rainbow

by Les Murray
 The word goes round Repins,
the murmur goes round Lorenzinis,
at Tattersalls, men look up from sheets of numbers,
the Stock Exchange scribblers forget the chalk in their hands
and men with bread in their pockets leave the Greek Club:
There's a fellow crying in Martin Place. They can't stop him.

The traffic in George Street is banked up for half a mile
and drained of...Read more of this...

His Boys

by Robert William Service
 "I'm going, Billy, old fellow. Hist, lad! Don't make any noise.
There's Boches to beat all creation, the pitch of a bomb away.
I've fixed the note to your collar, you've got to get back to my Boys,
You've got to get back to warn 'em before it's the break of day."

The order came to go forward to a trench-line traced on...Read more of this...

When The `Army Prays For Watty

by Henry Lawson
 When the kindly hours of darkness, save for light of moon and star, 
Hide the picture on the signboard over Doughty's Horse Bazaar; 
When the last rose-tint is fading on the distant mulga scrub, 
Then the Army prays for Watty at the entrance of his pub. 

Now, I often sit at Watty's when the night is very near, 
With...Read more of this...

A Sign-Seeker

by Thomas Hardy
 I MARK the months in liveries dank and dry,
The day-tides many-shaped and hued;
I see the nightfall shades subtrude,
And hear the monotonous hours clang negligently by.

I view the evening bonfires of the sun
On hills where morning rains have hissed;
The eyeless countenance of the mist
Pallidly rising when the summer droughts are done.

I have seen the lightning-blade, the leaping star,
The caldrons of...Read more of this...

Fellow Citizens

by Carl Sandburg
 I DRANK musty ale at the Illinois Athletic Club with
the millionaire manufacturer of Green River butter
one night
And his face had the shining light of an old-time Quaker,
he spoke of a beautiful daughter, and I knew he had
a peace and a happiness up his sleeve somewhere.
Then I heard Jim Kirch make a speech to the Advertising
Association on the trade resources...Read more of this...

Two Graves

by Robert William Service
 First Ghost

To sepulcher my mouldy bones
I bough a pile of noble stones,
And half a year a sculptor spent
To hew my marble monument,
The stateliest to rear its head
In all this city of the dead.

And generations passing through
Will gape, and ask: What did he do
To earn this tomb so rich and rare,
In Attic grace beyond compare?
How was his life in honour...Read more of this...

Onion Days

by Carl Sandburg
 MRS. GABRIELLE GIOVANNITTI comes along Peoria Street
every morning at nine o'clock
With kindling wood piled on top of her head, her eyes
looking straight ahead to find the way for her old feet.
Her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Pietro Giovannitti, whose
husband was killed in a tunnel explosion through
the negligence of a fellow-servant,
Works ten hours a day, sometimes twelve, picking onions
for Jasper on the Bowmanville...Read more of this...

Julian and Maddalo (excerpt)

by Percy Bysshe Shelley
 I rode one evening with Count Maddalo 
Upon the bank of land which breaks the flow
Of Adria towards Venice: a bare strand
Of hillocks, heap'd from ever-shifting sand,
Matted with thistles and amphibious weeds,
Such as from earth's embrace the salt ooze breeds,
Is this; an uninhabited sea-side,
Which the lone fisher, when his nets are dried,
Abandons; and no other object breaks
The waste, but...Read more of this...

Jock

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 There's a soldier that's been doing of his share 
In the fighting up and down and round about. 
He's continually marching here and there, 
And he's fighting, morning in and morning out. 
The Boer, you see, he generally runs; 
But sometimes, when he hides behind a rock, 
And we can't make no impression with the guns, 
Oh, then you'll...Read more of this...

Garden Francies

by Robert Browning
 I. THE FLOWER'S NAME

Here's the garden she walked across,
Arm in my arm, such a short while since:
Hark, now I push its wicket, the moss
Hinders the hinges and makes them wince!
She must have reached this shrub ere she turned,
As back with that murmur the wicket swung;
For she laid the poor snail, my chance foot spurned,
To feed and forget it the...Read more of this...

Lines in Praise of Tommy Atkins

by William Topaz McGonagall
 Success to Tommy Atkins, he's a very brave man,
And to deny it there's few people can;
And to face his foreign foes he's never afraid,
Therefore he's not a beggar, as Rudyard Kipling has said. 

No, he's paid by our Government, and is worthy of his hire;
And from our shores in time of war he makes our foes retire,
He doesn't need...Read more of this...

Young Fellow My Lad

by Robert William Service
 "Where are you going, Young Fellow My Lad,
 On this glittering morn of May?"
"I'm going to join the Colours, Dad;
 They're looking for men, they say."
"But you're only a boy, Young Fellow My Lad;
 You aren't obliged to go."
"I'm seventeen and a quarter, Dad,
 And ever so strong, you know."

 * * * *

"So you're off to France, Young...Read more of this...

Only A Slight Flirtation

by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
 ‘Twas just a slight flirtation, 
And where’s the harm, I pray, 
In that amusing pastime
So much in vogue to-day? 

Her hand was plighted elsewhere
To one she held most dear, 
But why should she sit lonely
When other men are near? 

They walked to church together, 
They sat upon the shore.
She found him entertaining, 
He found her something more.

They rambled in...Read more of this...

Killers

by Carl Sandburg
 I AM put high over all others in the city today.

I am the killer who kills for those who wish a killing today.

Here is a strong young man who killed.
There was a driving wind of city dust and horse dung blowing and he stood at an intersection of five sewers and there pumped the bullets of an automatic pistol...Read more of this...

Sonnet CXII

by Francesco Petrarch
SONNET CXII. Nè così bello il sol giammai levarsi. THE CHARMS OF LAURA WHEN SHE FIRST MET HIS SIGHT.  Ne'er can the sun such radiance soft display,Piercing some cloud that would its light impair;Ne'er tinged some showery arch the humid air,With variegated lustre half so gay,As when, sweet-smiling my fond heart...Read more of this...

Portrait

by Robert William Service
 Painter, would you make my picture?
Just forget the moral stricture.
 Let me sit
With my belly to the table,
Swilling all the wine I'm able,
 Pip a-lit;
Not a stiff and stuffy croaker
In a frock coat and a choker
 Let me be;
But a rollicking old fellow
With a visage ripe and mellow
 As you see.

Just a twinkle-eyed old codger,
And of death as artful...Read more of this...

The Reckoning

by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
 LEADER.

LET no cares now hover o'er us

Let the wine unsparing run!
Wilt thou swell our merry chorus?

Hast thou all thy duty done?

SOLO.

Two young folks--the thing is curious--

Loved each other; yesterday
Both quite mild, to-day quite furious,

Next day, quite the deuce to pay!
If her neck she there was stooping,

He must here needs pull his hair.
I revived their spirits drooping,

And they're now a...Read more of this...

A narrow fellow in the grass

by Emily Dickinson
A narrow fellow in the grass
Occasionally rides;
You may have met him,--did you not,
His notice sudden is.

The grass divides as with a comb,
A spotted shaft is seen;
And then it closes at your feet
And opens further on.

He likes a boggy acre,
A floor too cool for corn.
Yet when a child, and barefoot,
I more than once, at morn,

Have passed, I thought, a whip-lash
Unbraiding in...Read more of this...

This Night

by William Henry Davies
 This night, as I sit here alone,
And brood on what is dead and gone,
The owl that's in this Highgate Wood,
Has found his fellow in my mood;
To every star, as it doth rise -
Oh-o-o! Oh-o-o! he shivering cries.

And, looking at the Moon this night,
There's that dark shadow in her light.
Ah! Life and death, my fairest one,
Thy lover is a skeleton!
"And...Read more of this...

His Immortality

by Thomas Hardy
 I 

 I saw a dead man's finer part 
Shining within each faithful heart 
Of those bereft. Then said I: "This must be 
 His immortality." 

II 

 I looked there as the seasons wore, 
And still his soul continuously upbore 
Its life in theirs. But less its shine excelled 
 Than when I first beheld. 

III 

 His...Read more of this...

Forgiveness

by George William Russell
 My heart was heavy, for its trust had been 
Abused, its kindness answered with foul wrong; 
So, turning gloomily from my fellow-men, 
One summer Sabbath day I strolled among 
The green mounds of the village burial-place; 
Where, pondering how all human love and hate 
Find one sad level; and how, soon or late, 
Wronged and wrongdoer, each with meekened...Read more of this...

A fuzzy fellow without feet

by Emily Dickinson
 A fuzzy fellow, without feet,
Yet doth exceeding run!
Of velvet, is his Countenance,
And his Complexion, dun!

Sometime, he dwelleth in the grass!
Sometime, upon a bough,
From which he doth descend in plush
Upon the Passer-by!

All this in summer.
But when winds alarm the Forest Folk,
He taketh Damask Residence --
And struts in sewing silk!

Then, finer than a Lady,
Emerges in the spring!
A Feather on each shoulder!
You'd...Read more of this...

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