Famous Gurgles Poems by Famous Poets
These are examples of famous Gurgles poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous gurgles poems. These examples illustrate what a famous gurgles poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).
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...bour in the distance lies beneath a purple pall,
And nearer, at the garden’s lowest fringe,
Loud the water soughs and gurgles ’mid the rocks below the wall,
Dark-heaving, with a dim uncanny tinge
Of a green as pale as beryls, like the strange faint-coloured flame
That burns around the Women of the Sea:
And the strip of sky to westward which the camphorlaurels frame,
Has turned to ash-of-rose and ivory—
And a chorus rises valiantly from where the crickets hide,
Clos...Read more of this...
by
Mackeller, Dorothea
...wet mud ensnares it.
The East catches the light.
Near the Escaut the noise of factories echoes
And the sinuous Humboldt gurgles wildly.
The Po too flows, and the many-colored
Thames. Into the Atlantic Ocean
Pours the Garonne. Few ships navigate
On the Housatonic, but quite a few can be seen
On the Elbe. For centuries
The Afton has flowed.
If the Rio *****
Could abandon its song, and the Magdalena
The jungle flowers, the Tagus
Would still flow serenely, and the Ohio
Abrade its...Read more of this...
by
Ashbery, John
...she chanted merrily.
XXVII.
So the two brothers and their murder'd man
Rode past fair Florence, to where Arno's stream
Gurgles through straiten'd banks, and still doth fan
Itself with dancing bulrush, and the bream
Keeps head against the freshets. Sick and wan
The brothers' faces in the ford did seem,
Lorenzo's flush with love.--They pass'd the water
Into a forest quiet for the slaughter.
XXVIII.
There was Lorenzo slain and buried in,
There in that forest did his great love...Read more of this...
by
Keats, John
...nd;
At musters, beach-parties, friendly bees, huskings, house-raisings:
Where the mocking-bird sounds his delicious gurgles, cackles, screams, weeps;
Where the hay-rick stands in the barn-yard—where the dry-stalks are
scattered—where the brood-cow waits in the hovel;
Where the bull advances to do his masculine work—where the stud to the
mare—where the cock is treading the hen;
Where the heifers browse—where geese nip their food with short jerks;
Where sun-down ...Read more of this...
by
Whitman, Walt
...her back
into the sucking fingers of the bog
into the slush
squelching and splotch-
ing the marsh
gushes and gurgles
engulfing foot leg
chuckling suckles
the heaving thigh
the plush slugged waist
sucking still and still flushing
with suggestive slurp
plop slap
sluggishly upwards
unctuous lugubrious
soaking and enjoying
with spongy gestures
the swallowed wallowing
body - the succulence
of soft shoulder
squirming
elbow
wrist
then
...Read more of this...
by
Gregory, Rg
...is always the odd cottage no one can be bothered with where the lorries roar
But when you look behind a random stream gurgles by an overgrown track
With a gully of pebbles and an overhanging rock,
The door still hangs on that rusty latch; your thumb might still
Make it yield, not in the sturm und drang of adolescence but in
The quieter intimacies of shared grief.
The hills have not moved nor the clouds altered the stance of their lazy azure
Nor has the watery Pennin...Read more of this...
by
Tebb, Barry
...beyond the lake of waters;
I remember the first time, out of a bush in the darkness, a nightingale's piercing cries and gurgles startled the depths of my soul;
I remember the scream of a rabbit as I went through a wood at midnight;
I remember the heifer in her heat, blorting and blorting through the hours, persistent and irrepressible,
I remember my first terror hearing the howl of weird, amorous cats;
I remember the scream of a terrified, injured horse, the sheet-lightning,
...Read more of this...
by
Lawrence, D. H.
...pending all ordures of order.
‘Haworth Moor, Haworth Moor’
Echoes and re-echoes under the Dark Arches
Where the Aire gurgles and swirls
In eddies of Jack the Ripper, cloud-hopping
Jumping Jack Flash but Jack’s the lad I’m not
My adolescent timidity gelding
My desire for the welcoming heavy breasts
And garlanded yielding vaginas....Read more of this...
by
Tebb, Barry
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