Famous Forbears Poems by Famous Poets

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

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The Rape of the Lock: Canto 4

by Alexander Pope
 But anxious cares the pensive nymph oppress'd, 
And secret passions labour'd in her breast.
Not youthful kings in battle seiz'd alive,
Not scornful virgins who their charms survive,
Not ardent lovers robb'd of all their bliss,
Not ancient ladies when refus'd a kiss,
Not tyrants fierce that unrepenting die,
Not Cynthia when her manteau's pinn'd awry,
E'er felt such rage, resentment, and despair,
As thou, sad virgin!...Read more of this...

Dead Boy

by John Crowe Ransom
 The little cousin is dead, by foul subtraction,
A green bough from Virginia's aged tree,
And none of the county kin like the transaction,
Nor some of the world of outer dark, like me.

A boy not beautiful, nor good, nor clever,
A black cloud full of storms too hot for keeping,
A sword beneath his mother's heart—yet never
Woman bewept her babe as this is...Read more of this...

An Horatian Ode Upon Cromwells Return from Ireland

by Andrew Marvell
 The forward youth that would appear 
Must now forsake his Muses dear, 
Nor in the shadows sing 
His numbers languishing. 
'Tis time to leave the books in dust, 
And oil th' unused armour's rust, 
Removing from the wall 
The corslet of the hall. 
So restless Cromwell could not cease 
In the inglorious arts of peace, 
But through advent'rous war...Read more of this...

27. The Death and Dying Words of Poor Mailie

by Robert Burns
 AS Mailie, an’ her lambs thegither,
Was ae day nibbling on the tether,
Upon her cloot she coost a hitch,
An’ owre she warsl’d in the ditch:
There, groaning, dying, she did lie,
When Hughoc he cam doytin by.


 Wi’ glowrin een, and lifted han’s
Poor Hughoc like a statue stan’s;
He saw her days were near-hand ended,
But, wae’s my heart! he could na mend it!
He...Read more of this...

Epode

by Ben Jonson
  XI. — EPODE.                                   And her black spite expel, Which to effect (since no breast is so sure,                  Or safe, but she'll procure Some way of entrance) we must plant a guard                  Of thoughts to watch, and ward At the eye and ear, the ports unto the mind,                 Give knowledge instantly, To wakeful reason, our affections' king :                  Who, in th' examining,...Read more of this...

Cromwells Return

by Andrew Marvell
 An Horatian Ode upon Cromwell's Return From Ireland

The forward youth that would appear 
Must now forsake his muses dear, 
Nor in the shadows sing, 
His numbers languishing. 
'Tis time to leave the books in dust, 
And oil the unus?d armour's rust: 
Removing from the wall 
The corslet of the hall. 
So restless Cromwell could not cease 
In the inglorious...Read more of this...

Robert Browning

by Henry Van Dyke
 How blind the toil that burrows like the mole, 
In winding graveyard pathways underground,
For Browning's lineage! What if men have found
Poor footmen or rich merchants on the roll
Of his forbears? Did they beget his soul? 
Nay, for he came of ancestry renowned 
Through all the world, -- the poets laurel-crowned
With wreaths from which the autumn takes no toll. 

The...Read more of this...

306. Election Ballad at close of Contest for representing the Dumfries Burghs 1790

by Robert Burns
 FINTRY, my stay in wordly strife,
Friend o’ my muse, friend o’ my life,
 Are ye as idle’s I am?
Come then, wi’ uncouth kintra fleg,
O’er Pegasus I’ll fling my leg,
 And ye shall see me try him.


But where shall I go rin a ride,
That I may splatter nane beside?
 I wad na be uncivil:
In manhood’s various paths and ways
There’s aye...Read more of this...

Hymn 86

by Isaac Watts
 God holy, just, and sovereign.

Job 9:2-10. 

How should the sons of Adam's race
Be pure before their God?
If he contend in righteousness,
We fall beneath his rod.

To vindicate my words and thoughts
I'll make no more pretence;
Not one of all my thousand faults
Can bear a just defence.

Strong is his arm, his heart is wise;
What vain presumer's dare
Against their Maker's hand to rise,
Or...Read more of this...

The Collar

by George Herbert
 I struck the board, and cried "No more!
I will abroad.
What, shall I ever sigh and pine?
My lines and life are free; free as the road,
Loose as the wind, as large as store.
Shall I be still in suit?
Have I no harvest but a thorn
To let me blood, and not restore
What I have lost with cordial fruit?
Sure there was wine
Before my...Read more of this...

28. Poor Mailie's Elegy

by Robert Burns
 LAMENT in rhyme, lament in prose,
Wi’ saut tears trickling down your nose;
Our bardie’s fate is at a close,
 Past a’ remead!
The last, sad cape-stane o’ his woes;
 Poor Mailie’s dead!


 It’s no the loss o’ warl’s gear,
That could sae bitter draw the tear,
Or mak our bardie, dowie, wear
 The mourning weed:
He’s lost a friend an’ neebor dear
 In Mailie...Read more of this...

To The Painter Of An Ill-drawn Picture of Cleone

by Anne Kingsmill Finch
 Sooner I'd praise a Cloud which Light beguiles, 
Than thy rash Hand which robs this Face of Smiles; 
And does that sweet and pleasing Air control, 
Which to us paints the fair CLEONE's Soul. 
'Tis vain to boast of Rules or labour'd Art; 
I miss the Look that captivates my Heart, 
Attracts my Love, and tender Thoughts inspires; 
Nor...Read more of this...

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