Famous Homesteads Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Rise O Days

by Walt Whitman
 1
RISE, O days, from your fathomless deeps, till you loftier, fiercer sweep! 
Long for my soul, hungering gymnastic, I devour’d what the earth gave me; 
Long I roam’d the woods of the north—long I watch’d Niagara pouring; 
I travel’d the prairies over, and slept on their breast—I cross’d the
 Nevadas, I
 cross’d the plateaus; 
I ascended the towering rocks...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...

Abraham Lincoln Walks at Midnight

by Vachel Lindsay
 In Springfield, Illinois

IT is portentious, and a thing of state 
That here at midnight, in our little town 
A mourning figure walks, and will not rest, 
Near the old court-house, pacing up and down. 

Or by his homestead, or by shadowed yards 
He lingers where his children used to play, 
Or through the market, on the well-worn stones 
He...Read more of this...

At an Old Drawer

by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
 Before this scarf was faded,
What hours of mirth it knew;
How gayly it paraded
From smiling eyes to view.
The days were tinged with glory,
The nights too quickly sped,
And life was like a story
Where all the people wed.

Before this rosebud wilted,
How passionately sweet
The wild waltz smelled and lilted
In time for flying feet;
How loud the bassoons muttered,
The horns grew madly shrill,
And oh! the...Read more of this...

Villages and Plains the Streams Flow Through

by Jonas Mekas
 You too return, along with days gone,
and flow again, my blue rivers,

to carry on the songs of washerwomen,
fishermen's nets and grey wooden bridges.
Clear blue nights, smelling warm,
streams of thin mist off the meadow drift in
with distinct hoof-stomps from a fettered horse.

To carry off rioting spring thaws,
willows torn loose and yellow lily cups,
with children's shrill riots.
The summer heat, its midday...Read more of this...

The Eleusinian Festival

by Friedrich von Schiller
 Wreathe in a garland the corn's golden ear!
With it, the Cyane [31] blue intertwine
Rapture must render each glance bright and clear,
For the great queen is approaching her shrine,--
She who compels lawless passions to cease,
Who to link man with his fellow has come,
And into firm habitations of peace
Changed the rude tents' ever-wandering home.

Shyly in the mountain-cleft
Was the Troglodyte concealed;
And the...Read more of this...

Market days

by Jonas Mekas
 Mondays, way before dawn,
before even the first hint of blue in the windows,
we'd hear it start, off the road past our place,
over on the highway nearby,
in a clatter of market-bound traffic.

Riding the rigs packed with fruit and crated live fowl,
or on foot, with cattle hitched to tailgates slowing the pace,
or sitting up high, on raised seats
(the women all wore...Read more of this...

Thoughts

by Walt Whitman
 1
OF these years I sing, 
How they pass and have pass’d, through convuls’d pains as through parturitions; 
How America illustrates birth, muscular youth, the promise, the sure fulfillment, the
 Absolute
 Success, despite of people—Illustrates evil as well as good; 
How many hold despairingly yet to the models departed, caste, myths, obedience,
 compulsion, and
 to infidelity; 
How few see the...Read more of this...

Giffens Debt

by Rudyard Kipling
 Imprimis he was "broke." Thereafter left
His Regiment and, later, took to drink;
Then, having lost the balance of his friends,
"Went Fantee" -- joined the people of the land,
Turned three parts Mussulman and one Hindu,
And lived among the Gauri villagers,
Who gave him shelter and a wife or twain.
And boasted that a thorough, full-blood sahib
Had come among them. Thus he spent his...Read more of this...

In the Stable

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 What! you don't like him; well, maybe -- we all have our fancies, of course: 
Brumby to look at, you reckon? Well, no; he's a thoroughbred horse; 
Sired by a son of old Panic -- look at his ears and his head -- 
Lop-eared and Roman-nosed, ain't he? -- well, that's how the Panics are bred. 
Gluttonous, ugly and...Read more of this...

The Eviction

by William Allingham
 In early morning twilight, raw and chill, 
Damp vapours brooding on the barren hill, 
Through miles of mire in steady grave array 
Threescore well-arm'd police pursue their way;
Each tall and bearded man a rifle swings, 
And under each greatcoat a bayonet clings: 
The Sheriff on his sturdy cob astride 
Talks with the chief, who marches by their side,
And, creeping...Read more of this...

Feast Of Victory

by Friedrich von Schiller
 Priam's castle-walls had sunk,
Troy in dust and ashes lay,
And each Greek, with triumph drunk,
Richly laden with his prey,
Sat upon his ship's high prow,
On the Hellespontic strand,
Starting on his journey now,
Bound for Greece, his own fair land.
Raise the glad exulting shout!
Toward the land that gave them birth
Turn they now the ships about,
As they seek their native earth.

And in rows, all...Read more of this...

Three Marching Songs

by William Butler Yeats
 I

Remember all those renowned generations,
They left their bodies to fatten the wolves,
They left their homesteads to fatten the foxes,
Fled to far countries, or sheltered themselves
In cavern, crevice, or hole,
Defending Ireland's soul.

Be still, be still, what can be said?
My father sang that song,
But time amends old wrong,
All that is finished, let it fade.

Remember all those renowned generations,
Remember all that have...Read more of this...

In Defence of the Bush

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 So you're back from up the country, Mister Lawson, where you went, 
And you're cursing all the business in a bitter discontent; 
Well, we grieve to disappoint you, and it makes us sad to hear 
That it wasn't cool and shady -- and there wasn't whips of beer, 
And the looney bullock snorted when you first came into view...Read more of this...

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