Famous Fiction Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Peace is a fiction of our Faith --

by Emily Dickinson
 Peace is a fiction of our Faith --
The Bells a Winter Night
Bearing the Neighbor out of Sound
That never did alight....Read more of this...

Dolphin

by Robert Lowell
 My Dolphin, you only guide me by surprise,
a captive as Racine, the man of craft,
drawn through his maze of iron composition
by the incomparable wandering voice of Ph?dre.
When I was troubled in mind, you made for my body
caught in its hangman's-knot of sinking lines,
the glassy bowing and scraping of my will. . . .
I have sat and listened to too...Read more of this...

The Bard

by Thomas Gray
 Pindaric Ode

"Ruin seize thee, ruthless King!
Confusion on thy banners wait!
Tho' fanned by Conquest's crimson wing,
They mock the air with idle state.
Helm, nor hauberk's twisted mail,
Nor e'en thy virtues, Tyrant, shall avail
To save thy secret soul from nightly fears,
From Cambria's curse, from Cambria's tears!"
Such were the sounds that o'er the crested pride
Of the first Edward scattered wild dismay,
As down the...Read more of this...

Monody to the Memory of Chatterton

by Mary Darby Robinson
 Chill penury repress'd his noble rage, 
And froze the genial current of his soul.
GRAY. 


IF GRIEF can deprecate the wrath of Heaven, 
Or human frailty hope to be forgiven ! 
Ere now thy sainted spirit bends its way 
To the bland regions of celestial day; 
Ere now, thy soul, immers'd in purest air 
Smiles at the triumphs of supreme...Read more of this...

Rom: On the Palatine

by Thomas Hardy
 We walked where Victor Jove was shrined awhile, 
And passed to Livia's rich red mural show, 
Whence, thridding cave and Criptoportico, 
We gained Caligula's dissolving pile. 

And each ranked ruin tended to beguile 
The outer sense, and shape itself as though 
It wore its marble hues, its pristine glow 
Of scenic frieze and pompous peristyle. 

When lo, swift hands,...Read more of this...

Ninth Inning

by David Lehman
 He woke up in New York City on Valentine's Day,
Speeding. The body in the booth next to his was still warm,
Was gone. He had bought her a sweater, a box of chocolate
Said her life wasn't working he looked stricken she said
You're all bent out of shape, accusingly, and when he
She went from being an Ivy League professor of French
To...Read more of this...

The Ballad Of Caseys Billy-Goat

by Robert William Service
 You've heard of "Casey at The Bat,"
 And "Casey's Tabble Dote";
 But now it's time
 To write a rhyme
 Of "Casey's Billy-goat."

Pat Casey had a billy-goat he gave the name of Shamus,
Because it was (the neighbours said) a national disgrace.
And sure enough that animal was eminently famous
For masticating every rag of laundry round the place.
For shirts to skirts prodigiously...Read more of this...

O my heart! since the foundation, even, of the things

by Omar Khayyam
O my heart! since the foundation, even, of the things
of this world is only a fiction, why do you venture thus
in an infinite gulf of sorrow? Trust yourself to destiny,
endure the evil, for the lot which the heavenly brush
has traced for you will not be effaced.
333...Read more of this...

All that this world contains are but images and flourishes

by Omar Khayyam
All that this world contains are but images and flourishes
of fiction. Ill-advised is he who does not comprehend
his place in the number of these images. Repose,
thou, friend, drink a cup of wine, give thyself up to joy
and thus be delivered from all these vain figures, from
these impossible reflections [which come to assail thy
mind].
343...Read more of this...

Rome: On the Palatine

by Thomas Hardy
 We walked where Victor Jove was shrined awhile, 
And passed to Livia's rich red mural show, 
Whence, thridding cave and Criptoportico, 
We gained Caligula's dissolving pile. 

And each ranked ruin tended to beguile 
The outer sense, and shape itself as though 
It wore its marble hues, its pristine glow 
Of scenic frieze and pompous peristyle. 

When lo, swift hands,...Read more of this...

549. Epistle to Colonel de Peyster

by Robert Burns
 MY honor’d Colonel, deep I feel
Your interest in the Poet’s weal;
Ah! now sma’ heart hae I to speel
 The steep Parnassus,
Surrounded thus by bolus pill,
 And potion glasses.


O what a canty world were it,
Would pain and care and sickness spare it;
And Fortune favour worth and merit
 As they deserve;
And aye rowth o’ roast-beef and claret,
 Syne, wha wad starve?


Dame...Read more of this...

Letter to mother

by Sergei Yesenin
Are you still alive, my dear granny?
I am alive as well. Hello! Hello!
May there always be above you, honey,
The amazing stream of evening glow.
 
I"ve been told that hiding your disquiet,
Worrying  about me a lot,
You go out  to the roadside every night,
Wearing your shabby overcoat.
 
In the evening  darkness, very often,
You conceive the same old scene of...Read more of this...

Science-fiction Cradlesong

by C S Lewis
 By and by Man will try 
To get out into the sky, 
Sailing far beyond the air 
From Down and Here to Up and There. 
Stars and sky, sky and stars 
Make us feel the prison bars.

Suppose it done. Now we ride 
Closed in steel, up there, outside 
Through our port-holes see the vast 
Heaven-scape go rushing past. 
Shall...Read more of this...

260. Sketch in Verse inscribed to the Right Hon. C. J. Fox

by Robert Burns
 HOW wisdom and Folly meet, mix, and unite,
How Virtue and Vice blend their black and their white,
How Genius, th’ illustrious father of fiction,
Confounds rule and law, reconciles contradiction,
I sing: If these mortals, the critics, should bustle,
I care not, not I—let the Critics go whistle!


 But now for a Patron whose name and whose glory,
At once may illustrate and honour...Read more of this...

Her sweet Weight on my Heart a Night

by Emily Dickinson
 Her sweet Weight on my Heart a Night
Had scarcely deigned to lie --
When, stirring, for Belief's delight,
My Bride had slipped away --

If 'twas a Dream -- made solid -- just
The Heaven to confirm --
Or if Myself were dreamed of Her --
The power to presume --

With Him remain -- who unto Me --
Gave -- even as to All --
A Fiction...Read more of this...

The Rat

by Edwin Arlington Robinson
 As often as he let himself be seen 
We pitied him, or scorned him, or deplored 
The inscrutable profusion of the Lord 
Who shaped as one of us a thing so mean— 
Who made him human when he might have been
A rat, and so been wholly in accord 
With any other creature we abhorred 
As always useless and not...Read more of this...

Drink of This Cup

by Thomas Moore
 Drink of this cup; -- you'll find there's a spell in 
Its every drop 'gainst the ills of mortality; 
Talk of the cordial that sparkled for Helen; 
Her cup was a fiction, but this is reality. 
Would you forget the dark world we are in 
Just taste of the bubble that gleams on the top of it; 
But would...Read more of this...

I think to Live -- may be a Bliss

by Emily Dickinson
 I think to Live -- may be a Bliss
To those who dare to try --
Beyond my limit to conceive --
My lip -- to testify --

I think the Heart I former wore
Could widen -- till to me
The Other, like the little Bank
Appear -- unto the Sea --

I think the Days -- could every one
In Ordination stand --
And Majesty -- be...Read more of this...

from the Ansty Experience

by Rg Gregory
 (a)
they seek to celebrate the word
not to bring their knives out on a poem
dissecting it to find a heart
whose beat lies naked on a table
not to score in triumph on a line
no sensitive would put a nostril to
but simply to receive it as an
offering glimpsing the sacred there

poem probes the poet's once-intention
but each time said budges its truth
afresh (leaving...Read more of this...

The High-Toned Old Christian Woman

by Wallace Stevens
Poetry is the supreme fiction, madame.
Take the moral law and make a nave of it
And from the nave build haunted heaven. Thus,
The conscience is converted into palms,
Like windy citherns hankering for hymns.
We agree in principle. That's clear. But take
The opposing law and make a peristyle,
And from the peristyle project a masque
Beyond the planets. Thus, our bawdiness,
Unpurged by epitaph, indulged at...Read more of this...

The Other Tiger

by Jorge Luis Borges
 A tiger comes to mind. The twilight here
Exalts the vast and busy Library
And seems to set the bookshelves back in gloom;
Innocent, ruthless, bloodstained, sleek
It wanders through its forest and its day
Printing a track along the muddy banks
Of sluggish streams whose names it does not know
(In its world there are no names or past
Or time to come, only the vivid...Read more of this...

No Music

by John Montague
 I'll tell you a sore truth, little understood
It's harder to leave, than to be left:
To stay, to leave, both sting wrong.

You will always have me to blame,
Can dream we might have sailed on;
From absence's rib, a warm fiction.

To tear up old love by the roots,
To trample on past affections:
There is no music for so harsh a song....Read more of this...

Mary

by Edgar Bowers
 The angel of self-discipline, her guardian
Since she first knew and had to go away
From home that spring to have her child with strangers,
Sustained her, till the vanished boy next door
And her ordeal seemed fiction, and the true
Her mother’s firm insistence she was the mother
And the neighbors’ acquiescence. So she taught school,
Walking a mile each way to ride the street...Read more of this...

Once

by Philip Levine
 Hungry and cold, I stood in a doorway
on Delancey Street in 1946
as the rain came down. The worst part is this
is not from a bad movie. I'd read Dos Passos'
USA and thought, "Before the night ends
my life will change." A stranger would stop
to ask for my help, a single stranger
more needy than I, if such a woman
were possible. I...Read more of this...

Ode

by John Dryden
 To the Pious Memory of the Accomplished Young Lady, Mrs Anne Killigrew,
Excellent in the Two Sister-arts of Poesy and Painting

Thou youngest Virgin Daughter of the skies,
Made in the last promotion of the blest;
Whose palms, new-plucked from Paradise,
In spreading branches more sublimely rise,
Rich with immortal green, above the rest:
Whether, adopted to some neighbouring star,
Thou roll'st above us in thy wand'ring...Read more of this...

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