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Famous Grass Poems by Famous Poets

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

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by Dickinson, Emily
...straight—
Be its Pillow round—
Let no Sunrise' yellow noise
Interrupt this Ground—

986

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 Boy, and Barefoot—
I more than once at Noon
Have passed, I thought, a Whip lash
Unbraidin...Read more of this...



by Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth
...ew a blast, that resounded
Wildly and sweet and far, through the still damp air of the evening.
Suddenly out of the grass the long white horns of the cattle
Rose like flakes of foam on the adverse currents of ocean.
Silent a moment they gazed, then bellowing rushed o'er the prairie,
And the whole mass became a cloud, a shade in the distance.
Then, as the herdsman turned to the house, through the gate of the garden
Saw he the forms of the priest and the maiden adva...Read more of this...

by Ginsberg, Allen
...ailors, caresses of Atlantic and Caribbean 
 love, 
who balled in the morning in the evenings in rose 
 gardens and the grass of public parks and 
 cemeteries scattering their semen freely to 
 whomever come who may, 
who hiccuped endlessly trying to giggle but wound up 
 with a sob behind a partition in a Turkish Bath 
 when the blond & naked angel came to pierce 
 them with a sword, 
who lost their loveboys to the three old shrews of fate 
 the one eyed shrew of the heteros...Read more of this...

by Wilde, Oscar
...r the mossy knoll, and blackbirds fly
Across our path at evening, and the suns
Stay longer with us; ah! how good to see
Grass-girdled spring in all her joy of laughing greenery

Dance through the hedges till the early rose,
(That sweet repentance of the thorny briar!)
Burst from its sheathed emerald and disclose
The little quivering disk of golden fire
Which the bees know so well, for with it come
Pale boy's-love, sops-in-wine, and daffadillies all in bloom.

Then up and ...Read more of this...

by Sexton, Anne
...e I've come a long way 
from Brussels sprouts. 
I've come a long way to peel off my clothes 
and lay me down in the grass. 
Once only my palms showed. 
Once I hung around in my woolly tank suit, 
drying my hair in those little meatball curls. 
Now I am clothed in gold air with 
one dozen halos glistening on my skin. 
I am a fortunate lady. 
I've gotten out of my pouch 
and my teeth are glad 
and my heart, that witness, 
beats well at the thought. 
...Read more of this...



by Keats, John
...n cloud. No stir of air was there,
Not so much life as on a summer's day
Robs not one light seed from the feather'd grass,
But where the dead leaf fell, there did it rest.
A stream went voiceless by, still deadened more
By reason of his fallen divinity
Spreading a shade: the Naiad 'mid her reeds
Press'd her cold finger closer to her lips.

 Along the margin-sand large foot-marks went,
No further than to where his feet had stray'd,
And slept there since. Upon t...Read more of this...

by Byron, George (Lord)
...there, and not a brake hath borne 
Nor gout of blood, nor shred of mantle torn; 
Nor fall nor struggle hath defaced the grass, 
Which still retains a mark where murder was; 
Nor dabbling fingers left to tell the tale, 
The bitter print of each convulsive nail, 
When agonised hands that cease to guard, 
Wound in that pang the smoothness of the sward. 
Some such had been, if here a life was reft, 
But these were not; and doubting hope is left; 
And strange suspicion, whispe...Read more of this...

by Keats, John
...nse hangs upon the boughs, 
But, in embalm¨¨d darkness, guess each sweet 
Wherewith the seasonable month endows 
The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild; 45 
White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine; 
Fast-fading violets cover'd up in leaves; 
And mid-May's eldest child, 
The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine, 
The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves. 50 

Darkling I listen; and, for many a time 
I have been half in love with easeful Death, 
Ca...Read more of this...

by Wilde, Oscar
...of double Empires! and to thee
Were not the nations given as thy prey!
And now - thy gates lie open night and day,
The grass grows green on every tower and hall,
The ghastly fig hath cleft thy bastioned wall;
And where thy mailed warriors stood at rest
The midnight owl hath made her secret nest.
O fallen! fallen! from thy high estate,
O city trammelled in the toils of Fate,
Doth nought remain of all thy glorious days,
But a dull shield, a crown of withered bays!

Yet who...Read more of this...

by Whitman, Walt
...as good belongs to you. 

I loafe and invite my Soul; 
I lean and loafe at my ease, observing a spear of summer grass.

Houses and rooms are full of perfumes—the shelves are crowded with
 perfumes; 
I breathe the fragrance myself, and know it and like it; 
The distillation would intoxicate me also, but I shall not let it. 

The atmosphere is not a perfume—it has no taste of the distillation—it
 is odorless; 
It is for my mouth forever—I am in love wit...Read more of this...

by Chesterton, G K
...ore the gods that made the gods
Had seen their sunrise pass,
The White Horse of the White Horse Vale
Was cut out of the grass.

Before the gods that made the gods
Had drunk at dawn their fill,
The White Horse of the White Horse Vale
Was hoary on the hill.

Age beyond age on British land,
Aeons on aeons gone,
Was peace and war in western hills,
And the White Horse looked on.

For the White Horse knew England
When there was none to know;
He saw the first oar break o...Read more of this...

by Wordsworth, William
...and so  This grove is wild with tangling underwood,  And the trim walks are broken up, and grass,  Thin grass and king-cups grow within the paths.  But never elsewhere in one place I knew  So many Nightingales: and far and near  In wood and thicket over the wide grove  They answer and provoke each other's songs—  With skirmish and capricious passagings, &n...Read more of this...

by Tennyson, Alfred Lord
...r I faltered from my quest and vow? 
For after I had lain so many nights 
A bedmate of the snail and eft and snake, 
In grass and burdock, I was changed to wan 
And meagre, and the vision had not come; 
And then I chanced upon a goodly town 
With one great dwelling in the middle of it; 
Thither I made, and there was I disarmed 
By maidens each as fair as any flower: 
But when they led me into hall, behold, 
The Princess of that castle was the one, 
Brother, and that one only,...Read more of this...

by Wordsworth, William
...nbsp;The foot of horse, the voice of man;  The streams with softest sound are flowing,  The grass you almost hear it growing,  You hear it now if e'er you can.   The owlets through the long blue night  Are shouting to each other still:  Fond lovers, yet not quite hob nob,  They lengthen out the tremulous sob,  That echoes far from hill to hill. &nb...Read more of this...

by Scott, Sir Walter
...fting wind and rain.
     It might have tamed a warrior's heart
     To view  such mockery of his art!
     The knot-grass fettered there the hand
     Which once could burst an iron band;
     Beneath the broad and ample bone,
     That bucklered heart to fear unknown,
     A feeble and a timorous guest,
     The fieldfare framed her lowly nest;
     There the slow blindworm left his slime
     On the fleet limbs that mocked at time;
     And there, too, lay the l...Read more of this...

by Shelley, Percy Bysshe
...fountains whose melodious dew
Out of their mossy cells forever burst
Nor felt the breeze which from the forest told
Of grassy paths, & wood lawns interspersed
With overarching elms & caverns cold,
And violet banks where sweet dreams brood, but they
Pursued their serious folly as of old ....
And as I gazed methought that in the way
The throng grew wilder, as the woods of June
When the South wind shakes the extinguished day.--
And a cold glare, intenser tha...Read more of this...

by Eliot, T S (Thomas Stearns)
...also water
 And water 
 A spring
 A pool among the rock
 If there were the sound of water only
 Not the cicada
 And dry grass singing
 But sound of water over a rock
 Where the hermit-thrush sings in the pine trees
 Drip drop drip drop drop drop drop
 But there is no water
 Who is the third who walks always beside you? 
When I count, there are only you and I together
But when I look ahead up the white road
There is always another one walking beside you
Gliding wrapt in a brow...Read more of this...

by Miller, Alice Duer
.... Your devoted Father. 

XXVI 
I read, and saw my home with sudden yearning— 
The small white wooden house, the grass-green door, 
My father's study with the fire burning, 
And books piled on the floor. 
I saw the moon-faced clock that told the hours, 
The crimson Turkey carpet, worn and frayed, 
The heavy dishes—gold with birds and flowers— 
Fruits of the China trade. 
I saw the jack o' lanterns, friendly, frightening,
Shine from our gateposts every Hallow-e'...Read more of this...

by Plath, Sylvia
...ss by, pass by.
They are black and flat as shadows.
It is so beautiful to have no attachments!
I am solitary as grass. What is it I miss?
Shall I ever find it, whatever it is?

The swans are gone. Still the river
Remembers how white they were.
It strives after them with its lights.
It finds their shapes in a cloud.
What is that bird that cries
With such sorrow in its voice?
I am young as ever, it says. What is it I miss?

SECOND VOICE:
I am at ...Read more of this...

by Akhmatova, Anna
...that it could not
Fly Strength- and Glory-ward -- alas -
But only clouded at the feet
And, as if praying, kissed the grass.
Thus I, O Lord, before thee bow:
Will reach the fire of the sky
My lashes that are closed for now
And muteness utter and divine?



x x x

In intimacy there exists a line
That can't be crossed by passion or love's art --
In awful silence lips melt into one
And out of love to pieces bursts the heart.

And friendship here is imp...Read more of this...

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Book: Shattered Sighs