Famous Hazy Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Above Eurunderee

by Henry Lawson
 There are scenes in the distance where beauty is not,
On the desolate flats where gaunt appletrees rot.
Where the brooding old ridge rises up to the breeze
From his dark lonely gullies of stringy-bark trees,
There are voice-haunted gaps, ever sullen and strange,
But Eurunderee lies like a gem in the range.

Still I see in my fancy the dark-green and blue
Of the box-covered...Read more of this...

The Eavesdropper

by Bliss Carman
 In a still room at hush of dawn,
My Love and I lay side by side
And heard the roaming forest wind
Stir in the paling autumn-tide.
I watched her earth-brown eyes grow glad
Because the round day was so fair;
While memories of reluctant night
Lurked in the blue dusk of her hair.
Outside, a yellow maple tree,
Shifting upon the silvery blue
With tiny multitudinous sound,
Rustled to...Read more of this...

An Elegy

by Alexander Pushkin
 The senseless years' extinguished mirth and laughter
Oppress me like some hazy morning-after.
But sadness of days past, as alcohol -
The more it age, the stronger grip the soul.
My course is dull. The future's troubled ocean
Forebodes me toil, misfortune and commotion.

But no, my friends, I do not wish to leave;
I'd rather live, to ponder and to grieve -
And I shall have...Read more of this...

Eurunderee

by Henry Lawson
 There are scenes in the distance where beauty is not, 
On the desolate flats where gaunt appletrees rot. 
Where the brooding old ridge rises up to the breeze 
From his dark lonely gullies of stringy-bark trees, 
There are voice-haunted gaps, ever sullen and strange, 
But Eurunderee lies like a gem in the range. 

Still I see in my fancy...Read more of this...

The Wifebeater

by Anne Sexton
 There will be mud on the carpet tonight
and blood in the gravy as well.
The wifebeater is out,
the childbeater is out
eating soil and drinking bullets from a cup.
He strides bback and forth
in front of my study window
chewing little red pieces of my heart.
His eyes flash like a birthday cake
and he makes bread out of rock.
Yesterday he was walking
like a man...Read more of this...

A Day in the Open

by Lucy Maud Montgomery
 Ho, a day
Whereon we may up and away,
With a fetterless wind that is out on the downs,
And there piping a call to the fallow and shore,
Where the sea evermore
Surgeth over the gray reef, and drowns
The fierce rocks with white foam;
It is ours with untired feet to roam
Where the pines in green gloom of wide vales make their murmuring home,
Or...Read more of this...

The Ballad Of The Drover

by Henry Lawson
 Across the stony ridges,
Across the rolling plain,
Young Harry Dale, the drover,
Comes riding home again.
And well his stock-horse bears him,
And light of heart is he,
And stoutly his old pack-horse
Is trotting by his knee. 

Up Queensland way with cattle
He travelled regions vast;
And many months have vanished
Since home-folk saw him last.
He hums a song of someone
He hopes to marry soon;
And hobble-chains and...Read more of this...

Mazies Ghost

by Robert William Service
 In London City I evade
For charming Burlington Arcade -
For thee in youth I met a maid
 By name of Mazie,
Who lost no time in telling me
The Ritz put up a topping tea,
But having only shillings three
 My smile was hazy.

:Instead," said I, "it might be sport
To take a bus to Hampton Court,"
(Her manner, I remarked, was short,)
 But she...Read more of this...

Winter Nightfall

by Robert Seymour Bridges
 The day begins to droop,-- 
Its course is done: 
But nothing tells the place 
Of the setting sun. 
The hazy darkness deepens, 
And up the lane 
You may hear, but cannot see, 
The homing wain. 
An engine pants and hums 
In the farm hard by: 
Its lowering smoke is lost 
In the lowering sky. 
The soaking branches drip, 
And...Read more of this...

My Mothers Body

by Marge Piercy
 1. 

The dark socket of the year 
the pit, the cave where the sun lies down 
and threatens never to rise, 
when despair descends softly as the snow 
covering all paths and choking roads: 

then hawkfaced pain seized you 
threw you so you fell with a sharp 
cry, a knife tearing a bolt of silk. 
My father heard the...Read more of this...

The Garden Wall

by Denise Levertov
 Bricks of the wall, 
so much older than the house - 
taken I think from a farm pulled down 
when the street was built - 
narrow bricks of another century. 

Modestly, though laid with panels and parapets, 
a wall behind the flowers - 
roses and hollyhocks, the silver 
pods of lupine, sweet-tasting 
phlox, gray 
lavender - 
unnoticed - 
but...Read more of this...

Another Version

by Lisel Mueller
 Our trees are aspens, but people
mistake them for birches;
they think of us as characters
in a Russian novel, Kitty and Levin
living contentedly in the country.
Our friends from the city watch the birds
and rabbits feeding together
on top of the deep, white snow.
(We have Russian winters in Illinois,
but no sleighbells, possums instead of wolves,
no trusted servants to do our work.)
As in a...Read more of this...

On The New Year

by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
 ------
What we sing in company
Soon from heart to heart will fly.
-----

THE Gesellige Lieder, which I have angicisled 
as above, as several of them cannot be called convivial songs, are 
separated by Goethe from his other songs, and I have adhered to 
the same arrangement. The Ergo bibamus is a well-known drinking 
song in Germany, where it enjoys vast popularity.

ON...Read more of this...

The Bridge

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
 I stood on the bridge at midnight,
As the clocks were striking the hour,
And the moon rose o'er the city,
Behind the dark church-tower.

I saw her bright reflection
In the waters under me,
Like a golden goblet falling
And sinking into the sea.

And far in the hazy distance
Of that lovely night in June,
The blaze of the flaming furnace
Gleamed redder than the moon.

Among the long,...Read more of this...

On Her 'Rooftop-Terrace'

by Majeed Amjad
Here she comes, onto her “rooftop-terrace,” smiling

With a muted message in her fleeting glance !

 

This hazy air tinged with dusky reflections,

This desolate path … deserted lane … quiet evening,

The low wall of a house at the street corner,

Upon which is gently laid

A diffuse and silent spell !

 

This rooftop-terrace … familiar

With the sound of someone’s soft step,

This secluded place...Read more of this...

The General Public

by Stephen Vincent Benet
 "Ah, did you once see Shelley plain?" -- Browning. 
"Shelley? Oh, yes, I saw him often then," 
The old man said. A dry smile creased his face 
With many wrinkles. "That's a great poem, now! 
That one of Browning's! Shelley? Shelley plain? 
The time that I remember best is this -- 

A thin mire crept along the rutted ways,...Read more of this...

My arm for a pillow

by Yosa Buson
 My arm for a pillow,
I really like myself
under the hazy moon....Read more of this...

Robinson Crusoe's Story

by C. E. Carryl
      The night was thick and hazy
      When the “Piccadilly Daisy”
Carried down the crew and captain in the sea;
      And I think the water drowned ’em;
      For they never, never found ’em
And I know they didn’t come ashore with me.
...Read more of this...

The Tree of Scarlet Berries

by Amy Lowell
 The rain gullies the garden paths
And tinkles on the broad sides of grass blades.
A tree, at the end of my arm, is hazy with mist.
Even so, I can see that it has red berries,
A scarlet fruit,
Filmed over with moisture.
It seems as though the rain,
Dripping from it,
Should be tinged with colour.
I desire the berries,
But, in the mist, I only scratch...Read more of this...

Mountains

by Henry Kendall
RIFTED mountains, clad with forests, girded round by gleaming pines, 
Where the morning, like an angel, robed in golden splendour shines; 
Shimmering mountains, throwing downward on the slopes a mazy glare 
Where the noonday glory sails through gulfs of calm and glittering air; 
Stately mountains, high and hoary, piled with blocks of amber cloud, 
Where the fading twilight lingers, when...Read more of this...

Hiawathas Departure

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
 By the shore of Gitche Gumee,
By the shining Big-Sea-Water,
At the doorway of his wigwam,
In the pleasant Summer morning,
Hiawatha stood and waited.
All the air was full of freshness,
All the earth was bright and joyous,
And before him, through the sunshine,
Westward toward the neighboring forest
Passed in golden swarms the Ahmo,
Passed the bees, the honey-makers,
Burning, singing In the sunshine.
Bright above him shone the...Read more of this...

A Roundup Lullaby

by Badger Clark
  Desert blue and silver in the still moonshine,
    Coyote yappin' lazy on the hill,
  Sleepy winks of lightnin' down the far sky line,
    Time for millin' cattle to be still.

    _So--o now, the lightnin's far away,_
      _The coyote's nothiny skeery;_
   ...Read more of this...

Oscar Hummel

by Edgar Lee Masters
 I staggered on through darkness,
There was a hazy sky, a few stars
Which I followed as best I could.
It was nine o'clock, I was trying to get home.
But somehow I was lost,
Though really keeping the road.
Then I reeled through a gate and into a yard,
And called at the top of my voice:
"Oh, Fiddler! Oh, Mr. Jones!"
(I thought it was his...Read more of this...

For John Clare

by John Ashbery
 Kind of empty in the way it sees everything, the earth gets to its feet andsalutes the sky. More of a success at it this time than most others it is. The feeling that the sky might be in the back of someone's mind. Then there is no telling how many there are. They grace everything--bush and tree--to take...Read more of this...

Helen of Troy Does Countertop Dancing

by Margaret Atwood
 The world is full of women
who'd tell me I should be ashamed of myself
if they had the chance. Quit dancing.
Get some self-respect
and a day job.
Right. And minimum wage,
and varicose veins, just standing
in one place for eight hours
behind a glass counter
bundled up to the neck, instead of 
naked as a meat sandwich.
Selling gloves, or something.
Instead of what I do sell.
You...Read more of this...

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