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Famous Font Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry
...ber
You said you knew the place where once, on Kinsman,
The early Mormons made a settlement
And built a stone baptismal font outdoors—
But Smith, or someone, called them off the mountain
To go West to a worse fight with the desert.
You said you'd seen the stone baptismal font.
Well, take me there."

 Someday I will."

 "Today."

"Huh, that old bathtub, what is that to see?
Let's talk about it."

 "Let's go see the place."

'To shut you up I'll tell you what I'll do:
I'll find...Read more of this...
by Frost, Robert



...

Somebody said, in the crowd, last eve,
That you were married, or soon to be.
I have not thought of you, I believe,
Since last we parted. Let me see:
Five long Summers have passed since then –
Each has been pleasant in its own way –
And you are but one of a dozen men
Who have played the suitor a Summer day.

But, neverthel...Read more of this...
by Wilcox, Ella Wheeler
......Read more of this...
by Stewart, Douglas
...ercest blaze,Returning from the chase, as was my wont)Naked, where gush'd a font,My fair and fatal tyrant met my gaze;I whom nought else could pleasure, paused to look,While, touch'd with shame as natural as intense,Herself to hide or punish my offence,She o'er my face the crystal waters shook—I still s...Read more of this...
by Petrarch, Francesco
...en.

The holly in the windy hedge
And round the Manor House the yew
Will soon be stripped to deck the ledge,
The altar, font and arch and pew,
So that the villagers can say
'The church looks nice' on Christmas Day.

Provincial Public Houses blaze,
Corporation tramcars clang,
On lighted tenements I gaze,
Where paper decorations hang,
And bunting in the red Town Hall
Says 'Merry Christmas to you all'.

And London shops on Christmas Eve
Are strung with silver bells and flowers
A...Read more of this...
by Betjeman, John



...ewed God knows how long. Hatless I take off
My cylce-clips in awkward revrence 

Move forward run my hand around the font.
From where i stand the roof looks almost new--
Cleaned or restored? someone would know: I don't.
Mounting the lectern I peruse a few
hectoring large-scale verses and pronouce
Here endeth much more loudly than I'd meant
The echoes snigger briefly. Back at the door
I sign the book donate an Irish sixpence 
Reflect the place was not worth stopping...Read more of this...
by Larkin, Philip
...He is gone on the mountain,
He is lost to the forest,
Like a summer-dried fountain,
When our need was the sorest.
The font, reappearing,
From the rain-drops shall borrow,
But to us comes no cheering,
To Duncan no morrow!

The hand of the reaper
Takes the ears that are hoary,
But the voice of the weeper
Wails manhood in glory.
The autumn winds rushing
Waft the leaves that are searest,
But our flower was in flushing,
When blighting was nearest.

Fleet foot on the corrie,
Sage...Read more of this...
by Scott, Sir Walter
...ame.
For me the only feast at all
Is Autumn's Harvest Festival,
When I can satisfy my want
With ears of corn around the font.
I climb the eagle's brazen head
To burrow through a loaf of bread.
I scramble up the pulpit stair
And gnaw the marrows hanging there.
It is enjoyable to taste
These items ere they go to waste,
But how annoying when one finds
That other mice with pagan minds
Come into church my food to share
Who have no proper business there.
Two field mice who have no ...Read more of this...
by Betjeman, John
...eur
Du Spectateur
Empeste la brise.
Les actionnaires
Réactionnaires
Du Spectateur
Conservateur
Bras dessus bras dessous
Font des tours
A pas de loup.
Dans un égout
Une petite fille
En guenilles
Camarde
Regarde
Le directeur
Du Spectateur
Conservateur
Et crève d’amour....Read more of this...
by Eliot, T S (Thomas Stearns)
...eeps the crimson petal, now the white;
Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk;
Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font;
The firefly wakens, waken thou with me. 

Now droops the milk-white peacock like a ghost,
And like a ghost she glimmers on to me. 

Now lies the Earth all Danae to the stars, 
And all thy heart lies open unto me. 

Now slides the silent meteor on, and leaves
A shining furrow, as thy thoughts, in me. 

Now folds the lily all her sweetness up,
And slips ...Read more of this...
by Tennyson, Alfred Lord
...only one story to tell:
whether it be of The Athens of West Africa
or the song of the Wretched of the earth—
in our font of secrets, where we change
the name of Christ with our miscreant voices,
—always this ridiculous viaticum—
let us now imagine the face of a different Messiah,
touching his gown with our bloody hands. ...Read more of this...
by Cheney-Coker, Syl
...the crimson petal, now the white; 
Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk; 
Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font: 
The firefly wakens: waken thou with me. 

Now droops the milk-white peacock like a ghost, 5 
And like a ghost she glimmers on to me. 

Now lies the Earth all Dana? to the stars, 
And all thy heart lies open unto me. 

Now slides the silent meteor on, and leaves 
A shining furrow, as thy thoughts in me. 10 

Now folds the lily all her sweet...Read more of this...
by Tennyson, Alfred Lord
...rple, pruned to the fertile main, 
544 And sown again by the stiffest realist, 
545 Came reproduced in purple, family font, 
546 The same insoluble lump. The fatalist 
547 Stepped in and dropped the chuckling down his craw, 
548 Without grace or grumble. Score this anecdote 
549 Invented for its pith, not doctrinal 
550 In form though in design, as Crispin willed, 
551 Disguised pronunciamento, summary, 
552 Autumn's compendium, strident in itself 
553 But muted, mu...Read more of this...
by Stevens, Wallace
...gled with its own.
But ne’er shall Hassan’s age repose
Along the brink at twilight’s close:
The stream that filled that font is fled -
The blood that warmed his heart is shed!
And here no more shall human voice
Be heard to rage, regret, rejoice.
The last sad note that swelled the gale
Was woman’s wildest funeral wall:
That quenched in silence all is still,
But the lattice that flaps when the wind is shrill:
Though raves the gust, and floods the rain,
No hand shall clasp its c...Read more of this...
by Byron, George (Lord)
...e, in love's young morn,

In the glad dance upstood;
And perfect bliss I know

Ere the year's course is run,
For to the font we go

With grandson and with son!

1803.*...Read more of this...
by von Goethe, Johann Wolfgang
...He is lost to the forest,
     Like a summer-dried fountain,
          When our need was the sorest.
     The font, reappearing,
          From the rain-drops shall borrow,
     But to us comes no cheering,
          To Duncan no morrow!

     The hand of the reaper
          Takes the ears that are hoary,
     But the voice of the weeper
          Wails manhood in glory.
     The autumn winds rushing
          Waft the leaves that are searest,
     But o...Read more of this...
by Scott, Sir Walter
...ill that still
She held her chamb'r, abiding Christe's will

The time is come, a knave child she bare;
Mauricius at the font-stone they him call.
This Constable *doth forth come* a messenger, *caused to come forth*
And wrote unto his king that clep'd was All',
How that this blissful tiding is befall,
And other tidings speedful for to say
He* hath the letter, and forth he go'th his way. *i.e. the messenger

This messenger, to *do his avantage,* *promote his own interest*
Unto ...Read more of this...
by Chaucer, Geoffrey
...ps the crimson petal, now the white; 
Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk; 
Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font: 
The fire-fly wakens: wake thou with me. 

Now droops the milkwhite peacock like a ghost, 
And like a ghost she glimmers on to me. 

Now lies the Earth all Danaë to the stars, 
And all thy heart lies open unto me. 

Now lies the silent meteor on, and leaves 
A shining furrow, as thy thoughts in me. 

Now folds the lily all her sweetness up, 
And slips ...Read more of this...
by Tennyson, Alfred Lord
...re moved the multitude, a thousand heads: 
The patient leaders of their Institute 
Taught them with facts. One reared a font of stone 
And drew, from butts of water on the slope, 
The fountain of the moment, playing, now 
A twisted snake, and now a rain of pearls, 
Or steep-up spout whereon the gilded ball 
Danced like a wisp: and somewhat lower down 
A man with knobs and wires and vials fired 
A cannon: Echo answered in her sleep 
From hollow fields: and here were telescopes...Read more of this...
by Tennyson, Alfred Lord
...where penitential archbishops 
washed the feet of paupers (a parenthetical moment 
that made the Caribbean a baptismal font, 
turned butterflies to stone, and whitened like doves 
the buzzards circling municipal garbage), 
the Caribbean was borne like an elliptical basin 
in the hands of acolytes, and a people were absolved 
of a history which they did not commit; 
the slave pardoned his whip, and the dispossessed 
said the rosary of islands for three hundred years, 
a hymn ...Read more of this...
by Walcott, Derek

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Book: Reflection on the Important Things