Famous Gang Up Poems by Famous Poets

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

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At the Top of My voice

by Vladimir Mayakovsky
 My most respected
 comrades of posterity!
Rummaging among
 these days’ 
 petrified crap,
exploring the twilight of our times,
you,
 possibly,
 will inquire about me too.

And, possibly, your scholars
 will declare,
with their erudition overwhelming
 a swarm of problems;
once there lived
 a certain champion of boiled water,
and inveterate enemy of raw water.

Professor,
 take off your bicycle glasses!
I myself will expound
 those times
 and...Read more of this...

250. Song—She's Fair and Fause

by Robert Burns
 SHE’S fair and fause that causes my smart,
 I lo’ed her meikle and lang;
She’s broken her vow, she’s broken my heart,
 And I may e’en gae hang.
A coof cam in wi’ routh o’ gear,
And I hae tint my dearest dear;
But Woman is but warld’s gear,
 Sae let the bonie lass gang.


Whae’er ye be that woman love,
 To this be...Read more of this...

The Line-Gang

by Robert Frost
 Here come the line-gang pioneering by,
They throw a forest down less cut than broken.
They plant dead trees for living, and the dead
They string together with a living thread.
They string an instrument against the sky
Wherein words whether beaten out or spoken
Will run as hushed as when they were a thought
But in no hush they string it: they go past
With shouts...Read more of this...

Faithless Sally Brown

by Thomas Hood
 Young Ben he was a nice young man,
A carpenter by trade;
And he fell in love with Sally Brown,
That was a lady's maid.

But as they fetch'd a walk one day,
They met a press-gang crew;
And Sally she did faint away,
Whilst Ben he was brought to.

The Boatswain swore with wicked words,
Enough to shock a saint,
That though she did seem in a fit,
'Twas...Read more of this...

221. Song—The Bonie Lad that's Far Awa

by Robert Burns
 O HOW can I be blythe and glad,
 Or how can I gang brisk and braw,
When the bonie lad that I lo’e best
 Is o’er the hills and far awa!


It’s no the frosty winter wind,
 It’s no the driving drift and snaw;
But aye the tear comes in my e’e,
 To think on him that’s far awa.


My father pat me...Read more of this...

112. A Dream

by Robert Burns
 GUID-MORNIN’ to our Majesty!
 May Heaven augment your blisses
On ev’ry new birth-day ye see,
 A humble poet wishes.
My bardship here, at your Levee
 On sic a day as this is,
Is sure an uncouth sight to see,
 Amang thae birth-day dresses
 Sae fine this day.


I see ye’re complimented thrang,
 By mony a lord an’ lady;
“God save the King” ’s a...Read more of this...

The Flying Gang

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 And I worked my way to the end, and I 
Was the head of the "Flying Gang". 
'Twas a chosen band that was kept at hand 
In case of an urgent need; 
Was it south or north, we were started forth 
And away at our utmost speed. 
If word reached town that a bridge was down, 
The imperious summons...Read more of this...

Judgment Day

by Ellis Parker Butler
 Saint Peter stood, at Heaven's gate,
All souls claims to adjudicate
Saying to some souls, "Enter in!"
"Go to Hell," to others, "you are steeped in sin."
When up from earth, with a great hubbub,
Came all the members of the Tuscarora Club.
The angel Gabriel, peering out,
Said, "What, the devil, is this noise about?"
"Gabe," said Peter, "There's always lots of noise,
At any get-together of...Read more of this...

Homecoming

by Robert Lowell
What was is...since 1930;
The boys in my old gang
are senior partners. They start up
bald like baby birds
to embrace retirement.

At the altar of surrender 
I met you
in the hour of credulity.
How your misfortune came our clearly
to us at twenty.

At the gingerbread casino 
how innocent the nights we made it.
on our Vesuvio martinis
with no vermouth but vodka
to sweeten the dry gin-

the lash...Read more of this...

The Bour-Tree Den

by Robert Louis Stevenson
 CLINKUM-CLANK in the rain they ride,
Down by the braes and the grey sea-side;
Clinkum-clank by stane and cairn,
Weary fa' their horse-shoe-airn!

Loud on the causey, saft on the sand,
Round they rade by the tail of the land;
Round and up by the Bour-Tree Den,
Weary fa' the red-coat men!

Aft hae I gane where they hae rade
And straigled in the gowden brooms -
Aft hae...Read more of this...

275. Song—The Laddie's dear sel'

by Robert Burns
 THERE’S a youth in this city, it were a great pity
 That he from our lassies should wander awa’;
For he’s bonie and braw, weel-favor’d witha’,
 An’ his hair has a natural buckle an’ a’.


His coat is the hue o’ his bonnet sae blue,
 His fecket is white as the new-driven snaw;
His hose they are blae, and his shoon like...Read more of this...

Rune of the Finland Woman

by Marilyn Hacker
 For Sára Karig

"You are so wise," the reindeer said, "you can bind the winds of the world in a single strand."—H. C. Andersen, "The Snow Queen"

She could bind the world's winds in a single strand.
She could find the world's words in a singing wind.
She could lend a weird will to a mottled hand.
She could wind a willed word from...Read more of this...

403. The Soldier's Return: A Ballad

by Robert Burns
 WHEN wild war’s deadly blast was blawn,
 And gentle peace returning,
Wi’ mony a sweet babe fatherless,
 And mony a widow mourning;
I left the lines and tented field,
 Where lang I’d been a lodger,
My humble knapsack a’ my wealth,
 A poor and honest sodger.


A leal, light heart was in my breast,
 My hand unstain’d wi’ plunder;
And for fair Scotia hame...Read more of this...

Smoke and Steel

by Carl Sandburg
 SMOKE of the fields in spring is one,
Smoke of the leaves in autumn another.
Smoke of a steel-mill roof or a battleship funnel,
They all go up in a line with a smokestack,
Or they twist … in the slow twist … of the wind.

If the north wind comes they run to the south.
If the west wind comes they run to the...Read more of this...

369. Song—My Collier Laddie

by Robert Burns
 WHARE live ye, my bonie lass?
 And tell me what they ca’ ye;
My name, she says, is mistress Jean,
 And I follow the Collier laddie.
 My name, she says, &c.


See you not yon hills and dales
 The sun shines on sae brawlie;
They a’ are mine, and they shall be thine,
 Gin ye’ll leave your Collier laddie.
 They a’ are...Read more of this...

83. The Cotter's Saturday Night

by Robert Burns
 MY lov’d, my honour’d, much respected friend!
 No mercenary bard his homage pays;
With honest pride, I scorn each selfish end,
 My dearest meed, a friend’s esteem and praise:
 To you I sing, in simple Scottish lays,
The lowly train in life’s sequester’d scene,
 The native feelings strong, the guileless ways,
What Aiken in a cottage would have been;
Ah! tho’ his worth...Read more of this...

511. Song—O aye my wife she dang me

by Robert Burns
 Chorus—O aye my wife she dang me,
 An’ aft my wife she bang’d me,
If ye gie a woman a’ her will,
 Gude faith! she’ll soon o’er-gang ye.


ON peace an’ rest my mind was bent,
 And, fool I was! I married;
But never honest man’s intent
 Sane cursedly miscarried.
 O aye my wife, &c.


Some sairie comfort at the last,
 When a’...Read more of this...

469. Song—Ca' the Yowes to the Knowes

by Robert Burns
 Chorus.—Ca’the yowes to the knowes,
Ca’ them where the heather grows,
Ca’ them where the burnie rowes,
 My bonie Dearie.


HARK the mavis’ e’ening sang,
Sounding Clouden’s woods amang;
Then a-faulding let us gang,
 My bonie Dearie.
 Ca’ the yowes, &c.


We’ll gae down by Clouden side,
Thro’ the hazels, spreading wide,
O’er the waves that sweetly glide,
 To the moon sae clearly.
 Ca’ the yowes, &c.


Yonder...Read more of this...

60. Epistle on J. Lapraik

by Robert Burns
 WHILE briers an’ woodbines budding green,
An’ paitricks scraichin loud at e’en,
An’ morning poussie whiddin seen,
 Inspire my muse,
This freedom, in an unknown frien’,
 I pray excuse.


On Fasten-e’en we had a rockin,
To ca’ the crack and weave our stockin;
And there was muckle fun and jokin,
 Ye need na doubt;
At length we had a hearty yokin
 At sang about.


There was ae...Read more of this...

110. Epistle to a Young Friend

by Robert Burns
 May—, 1786.I LANG hae thought, my youthfu’ friend,
 A something to have sent you,
Tho’ it should serve nae ither end
 Than just a kind memento:
But how the subject-theme may gang,
 Let time and chance determine;
Perhaps it may turn out a sang:
 Perhaps turn out a sermon.


Ye’ll try the world soon, my lad;
 And, Andrew dear, believe me,
Ye’ll find mankind...Read more of this...

The Galley-Slave

by Rudyard Kipling
 Oh gallant was our galley from her caren steering-wheel
To her figurehead of silver and her beak of hammered steel;
The leg-bar chafed the ankle and we gasped for cooler air,
But no galley on the waters with our galley could compare!

Our bulkheads bulged with cotton and our masts were stepped in gold --
We ran a mighty merchandise of niggers in the...Read more of this...

The Sick Stockrider

by Adam Lindsay Gordon
 Hold hard, Ned! Lift me down once more, and lay me in the shade. 
Old man, you've had your work cut out to guide 
Both horses, and to hold me in the saddle when I swayed, 
All through the hot, slow, sleepy, silent ride. 
The dawn at "Moorabinda" was a mist rack dull and dense, 
The sun-rise was a...Read more of this...

Oh Who Is That Young Sinner

by A E Housman
 Oh who is that young sinner with the handcuffs on his wrists?
And what has he been after that they groan and shake their fists?
And wherefore is he wearing such a conscience-stricken air?
Oh they're taking him to prison for the color of his hair.

'Tis a shame to human nature, such a head of hair as his;
In the good old time...Read more of this...

This My Song Is Made For Kerensky

by Vachel Lindsay
 (Being a Chant of the American Soap-Box and the Russian Revolution.)


O market square, O slattern place,
Is glory in your slack disgrace?
Plump quack doctors sell their pills,
Gentle grafters sell brass watches,
Silly anarchists yell their ills.
Shall we be as weird as these?
In the breezes nod and wheeze?

Heaven's mass is sung, 
Tomorrow's mass is sung 
In a spirit tongue 
By wind and...Read more of this...

90. Epistle to James Smith

by Robert Burns
 DEAR SMITH, the slee’st, pawkie thief,
That e’er attempted stealth or rief!
Ye surely hae some warlock-brief
 Owre human hearts;
For ne’er a bosom yet was prief
 Against your arts.


For me, I swear by sun an’ moon,
An’ ev’ry star that blinks aboon,
Ye’ve cost me twenty pair o’ shoon,
 Just gaun to see you;
An’ ev’ry ither pair that’s done,
 Mair taen I’m wi’...Read more of this...

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