Famous Graven Poems by Famous Poets

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

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The Wife of Flanders

by G K Chesterton
 Low and brown barns, thatched and repatched and tattered, 
Where I had seven sons until to-day, 
A little hill of hay your spur has scattered. . . . 
This is not Paris. You have lost your way. 

You, staring at your sword to find it brittle, 
Surprised at the surprise that was your plan, 
Who, shaking and breaking barriers...Read more of this...

Try To Remember Some Details

by Yehuda Amichai
 Try to remember some details. Remember the clothing 
of the one you love 
so that on the day of loss you'll be able to say: last seen 
wearing such-and-such, brown jacket, white hat. 
Try to remember some details. For they have no face 
and their soul is hidden and their crying 
is the same as their laughter, 
and their...Read more of this...

The Conquerors Grave

by William Cullen Bryant
WITHIN this lowly grave a Conqueror lies  
And yet the monument proclaims it not  
Nor round the sleeper's name hath chisel wrought 
The emblems of a fame that never dies ¡ª 
Ivy and amaranth in a graceful sheaf 5 
Twined with the laurel's fair imperial leaf. 
A simple name alone  
To the great world unknown  
Is...Read more of this...

Ginza Samba

by Robert Pinsky
 A monosyllabic European called Sax
Invents a horn, walla whirledy wah, a kind of twisted
Brazen clarinet, but with its column of vibrating
Air shaped not in a cylinder but in a cone
Widening ever outward and bawaah spouting
Infinitely upward through an upturned
Swollen golden bell rimmed
Like a gloxinia flowering
In Sax's Belgian imagination

And in the unfathomable matrix
Of mothers and fathers as a genius graven
Humming...Read more of this...

Sonnet C

by William Shakespeare
 Where art thou, Muse, that thou forget'st so long
To speak of that which gives thee all thy might?
Spend'st thou thy fury on some worthless song,
Darkening thy power to lend base subjects light?
Return, forgetful Muse, and straight redeem
In gentle numbers time so idly spent;
Sing to the ear that doth thy lays esteem
And gives thy pen both skill and argument.
Rise, resty...Read more of this...

My Psalm

by John Greenleaf Whittier
I mourn no more my vanished years
    Beneath a tender rain,
    An April rain of smiles and tears,
    My heart is young again.

    The west-winds blow, and, singing low,
    I hear the glad streams run;
    The windows of my soul I throw
...Read more of this...

Sunshine through a Cobwebbed Window

by Amy Lowell
 What charm is yours, you faded old-world tapestries,
Of outworn, childish mysteries,
Vague pageants woven on a web of dream!
And we, pushing and fighting in the turbid stream
Of modern life, find solace in your tarnished broideries.
Old lichened halls, sun-shaded by huge cedar-trees,
The layered branches horizontal stretched, like Japanese
Dark-banded prints. Carven cathedrals, on a sky
Of faintest colour, where the gothic spires fly
And...Read more of this...

Unto Us..

by Spike Milligan
 Somewhere at some time
They committed themselves to me
And so, I was!
Small, but I WAS!
Tiny, in shape
Lusting to live
I hung in my pulsing cave.
Soon they knew of me
My mother --my father.
I had no say in my being
I lived on trust
And love
Tho' I couldn't think
Each part of me was saying
A silent 'Wait for me
I will bring you love!'
I was taken
Blind, naked,...Read more of this...

The Princes Progress (excerpt)

by Christina Rossetti
 "Too late for love, too late for joy,
Too late, too late!
You loitered on the road too long,
You trifled at the gate:
The enchanted dove upon her branch
Died without a mate.
The enchanted princess in her tower
Slept, died, behind the grate;
Her heart was starving all this while
You made it wait.

"Ten years ago, five years ago,
One year ago,
Even then you had arrived in...Read more of this...

The Living Temple

by Oliver Wendell Holmes
 NOT in the world of light alone, 
Where God has built his blazing throne, 
Nor yet alone in earth below, 
With belted seas that come and go, 
And endless isles of sunlit green, 
Is all thy Maker's glory seen: 
Look in upon thy wondrous frame,--
Eternal wisdom still the same!

The smooth, soft air with pulse-like waves 
Flows murmuring through its...Read more of this...

A Happy Man

by Edwin Arlington Robinson
 When these graven lines you see, 
Traveller, do not pity me; 
Though I be among the dead, 
Let no mournful word be said.

Children that I leave behind, 
And their children, all were kind; 
Near to them and to my wife, 
I was happy all my life.

My three sons I married right, 
And their sons I rocked at night; 
Death...Read more of this...

Heart O The North

by Robert William Service
 And when I come to the dim trail-end,
 I who have been Life's rover,
This is all I would ask, my friend,
 Over and over and over:

A little space on a stony hill
 With never another near me,
Sky o' the North that's vast and still,
 With a single star to cheer me;

Star that gleams on a moss-grey stone
 Graven by...Read more of this...

Firelight

by Edwin Arlington Robinson
 Ten years together without yet a cloud,
They seek each other's eyes at intervals
Of gratefulness to firelight and four walls
For love's obliteration of the crowd.
Serenely and perennially endowed
And bowered as few may be, their joy recalls
No snake, no sword; and over them there falls
The blessing of what neither says aloud.

Wiser for silence, they were not so glad
Were she to read...Read more of this...

Sonnet CXXIV

by Francesco Petrarch
SONNET CXXIV. Quel sempre acerbo ed onorato giorno. HE RECALLS HER AS HE SAW HER WHEN IN TEARS.  That ever-painful, ever-honour'd daySo left her living image on my heartBeyond or lover's wit or poet's art,That oft to it will doting memory stray.A gentle pity softening her bright mien,Her sorrow there...Read more of this...

Recollection of the Arabian Nights

by Alfred Lord Tennyson
 WHEN the breeze of a joyful dawn blew free 
In the silken sail of infancy, 
The tide of time flow'd back with me, 
The forward-flowing tide of time; 
And many a sheeny summer-morn, 
Adown the Tigris I was borne, 
By Bagdat's shrines of fretted gold, 
High-walled gardens green and old; 
True Mussulman was I and sworn, 
For it was...Read more of this...

Bride Song

by Christina Rossetti
 From 'The Prince's Progress' 

TOO late for love, too late for joy, 
 Too late, too late! 
You loiter'd on the road too long, 
 You trifled at the gate: 
The enchanted dove upon her branch 
 Died without a mate; 
The enchanted princess in her tower 
 Slept, died, behind the grate; 
Her heart was starving all this...Read more of this...

To Jennie

by Mark Twain
 Good-bye! a kind good-bye,
I bid you now, my friend,
And though 'tis sad to speak the word,
To destiny I bend

And though it be decreed by Fate
That we ne'er meet again,
Your image, graven on my heart,
Forever shall remain.

Aye, in my heart thoult have a place,
Among the friends held dear,-
Nor shall the hand of Time efface
The memories written there.
Goodbye,
S.L.C....Read more of this...

Cassius Hueffer

by Edgar Lee Masters
 They have chiseled on my stone the words:
'His life was gentle, and the elements so mixed in him
That nature might stand up and say to all the world,
This was a man.'
Those who knew me smile
As they read this empty rhetoric.
My epitaph should have been:
'Life was not gentle to him,
And the elements so mixed in him
That he made warfare on...Read more of this...

The Last Decalogue

by Arthur Hugh Clough
 Thou shalt have one God only;—who
Would be at the expense of two?
No graven images may be
Worshipped, except the currency:
Swear not at all; for, for thy curse
Thine enemy is none the worse:
At church on Sunday to attend
Will serve to keep the world thy friend:
Honour thy parents; that is, all
From whom advancement may befall:
Thou shalt not kill; but need'st not strive
Officiously...Read more of this...

Ione

by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Ah, yes, 't is sweet still to remember,
Though 'twere less painful to forget;
For while my heart glows like an ember,
Mine eyes with sorrow's drops are wet,
And, oh, my heart is aching yet.
[Pg 32]It is a law of mortal pain
That old wounds, long accounted well,
Beneath the memory's potent spell,
Will wake to life and bleed again.
So 't is with me;...Read more of this...

The Atavist

by Robert William Service
 What are you doing here, Tom Thorne, on the white top-knot o' the world,
Where the wind has the cut of a naked knife and the stars are rapier keen?
Hugging a smudgy willow fire, deep in a lynx robe curled,
You that's a lord's own son, Tom Thorne -- what does your madness mean?

Go home, go home to your clubs, Tom...Read more of this...

Dream Song 136: While his wife earned the living Rabbi Henry

by John Berryman
 While his wife earned the living, Rabbi Henry
studied the Torah, writing commentaries
more likely to be burnt than printed.
It was rumoured that they needed revision.
Smiling, kissing, he bent his head not with 'Please'
but with austere requests barely hinted,

like a dog with a bone he worried the Sacred Book 
and often taught its fringes.
Imperishable enthusiasms.
I have only one request to make...Read more of this...

Marie Bateson

by Edgar Lee Masters
 You observe the carven hand
With the index finger pointing heavenward.
That is the direction, no doubt.
But how shall one follow it?
It is well to abstain from murder and lust,
To forgive, do good to others, worship God
Without graven images.
But these are external means after all
By which you chiefly do good to yourself.
The inner kernel is freedom,
It is light, purity --
I can...Read more of this...

Under the Violets

by Oliver Wendell Holmes
 HER hands are cold; her face is white;
No more her pulses come and go;
Her eyes are shut to life and light;--
Fold the white vesture, snow on snow,
And lay her where the violets blow.

But not beneath a graven stone,
To plead for tears with alien eyes;
A slender cross of wood alone
Shall say, that here a maiden lies
In peace beneath the peaceful...Read more of this...

Moon-Lover

by Robert William Service
 I

The Moon is like a ping-pong ball;
I lean against the orchard wall,
And see it soar into the void,
A silky sphere of celluloid.

Then fairy fire enkindles it,
Like gossamer by taper lit,
Until it glows above the trees
As mellow as a Cheddar cheese.

And up and up I watch it press
Into appalling loneliness;
Like realms of ice without a stain,
A corpse Moon come to...Read more of this...

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