Famous Jackson Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Freedom

by Helen Hunt Jackson
 he drank wine all night of the 
28th, and he kept thinking of her: 
the way she walked and talked and loved 
the way she told him things that seemed true 
but were not, and he knew the color of each 
of her dresses 
and her shoes-he knew the stock and curve of 
each heel 
as well as the...Read more of this...

The World And I

by Laura Riding Jackson
 This is not exactly what I mean
Any more than the sun is the sun.
But how to mean more closely
If the sun shines but approximately?
What a world of awkwardness!
What hostile implements of sense!
Perhaps this is as close a meaning
As perhaps becomes such knowing.
Else I think the world and I
Must live together as strangers and die—
A sour love, each doubtful whether
Was...Read more of this...

A Calendar of Sonnets: March

by Helen Hunt Jackson
 Month which the warring ancients strangely styled 
The month of war,--as if in their fierce ways 
Were any month of peace!--in thy rough days 
I find no war in Nature, though the wild 
Winds clash and clang, and broken boughs are piled 
As feet of writhing trees. The violets raise 
Their heads without affright, without amaze, 
And sleep through...Read more of this...

Danger

by Helen Hunt Jackson
 With what a childish and short-sighted sense 
Fear seeks for safety; recons up the days 
Of danger and escape, the hours and ways 
Of death; it breathless flies the pestilence; 
It walls itself in towers of defence; 
By land, by sea, against the storm it lays 
Down barriers; then, comforted, it says: 
"This spot, this hour is safe." Oh,...Read more of this...

The Quids

by Laura Riding Jackson
 The little quids, the million quids,
The everywhere, everything, always quids,
The atoms of the Monoton—
Each turned three essences where it stood
And ground a gisty dust from its neighbors' edges
Until a powdery thoughtfall stormed in and out,
The cerebration of a slippery quid enterprise.
Each quid stirred.
The united quids
Waved through a sinuous decision.

The quids, that had never done anything before
But be, be, be,...Read more of this...

Tides

by Helen Hunt Jackson
 O patient shore, thou canst not go to meet
Thy love, the restless sea, how comfortest
Thou all thy loneliness? Art thou at rest,
When, loosing his strong arms from round thy feet,
He turns away? Know'st thou, however sweet
That other shore may be, that to thy breast
He must return? And when in sterner test
He folds thee to a heart which does not...Read more of this...

The Fir-Tree and the Brook

by Helen Hunt Jackson
 The Fir-Tree looked on stars, but loved the Brook! 
"O silver-voiced! if thou wouldst wait, 
My love can bravely woo." All smiles forsook 
The brook's white face. "Too late! 
Too late! I go to wed the sea. 
I know not if my love would curse or bless thee. 
I may not, dare not, tarry to caress thee, 
Oh, do...Read more of this...

My Bees: An Allegory

by Helen Hunt Jackson
 "O bees, sweet bees!" I said, "that nearest field 
Is shining white with fragrant immortelles. 
Fly swiftly there and drain those honey wells." 
Then, spicy pines the sunny hive to shield, 
I set, and patient for the autumn's yield 
Of sweet I waited. 
When the village bells 
Rang frosty clear, and from their satin cells 
The chestnuts leaped, rejoicing,...Read more of this...

The Poets Forge

by Helen Hunt Jackson
 He lies on his back, the idling smith, 
A lazy, dreaming fellow is he; 
The sky is blue, or the sky is gray, 
He lies on his back the livelong day, 
Not a tool in sight, say what they may, 
A curious sort of smith is he. 

The powers of the air are in league with him; 
The country...Read more of this...

To an Absent Lover

by Helen Hunt Jackson
 That so much change should come when thou dost go, 
Is mystery that I cannot ravel quite. 
The very house seems dark as when the light 
Of lamps goes out. Each wonted thing doth grow 
So altered, that I wander to and fro 
Bewildered by the most familiar sight, 
And feel like one who rouses in the night 
From...Read more of this...

A Calendar of Sonnets: August

by Helen Hunt Jackson
 Silence again. The glorious symphony 
Hath need of pause and interval of peace. 
Some subtle signal bids all sweet sounds cease, 
Save hum of insects' aimless industry. 
Pathetic summer seeks by blazonry 
Of color to conceal her swift decrease. 
Weak subterfuge! Each mocking day doth fleece 
A blossom, and lay bare her poverty. 
Poor middle-aged summer! Vain this show!...Read more of this...

Tryst

by Helen Hunt Jackson
 Somewhere thou awaitest, 
And I, with lips unkissed, 
Weep that thus to latest 
Thou puttest off our tryst!

The golden bowls are broken, 
The silver cords untwine; 
Almond flowers in token 
Have bloomed,---that I am thine!

Others who would fly thee 
In cowardly alarms, 
Who hate thee and deny thee, 
Thou foldest in thine arms!

How shall I entreat thee 
No longer...Read more of this...

A Dream

by Helen Hunt Jackson
 Once a dream did weave a shade,
O'er my Angel-guarded bed.
That an Emmet lost it's way
Where on grass methought I lay.

Troubled wildered and forlorn
Dark benighted travel-worn,
Over many a tangled spray,
All heart-broke I heard her say.

O my children! do they cry,
Do they hear their father sigh.
Now they look abroad to see,
Now return and weep for me.

Pitying I dropp'd a tear;
But I...Read more of this...

The Dying Words Of Stonewall Jackson

by Sidney Lanier
 "Order A. P. Hill to prepare for battle."
"Tell Major Hawks to advance the Commissary train."
"Let us cross the river and rest in the shade."

The stars of Night contain the glittering Day
And rain his glory down with sweeter grace
Upon the dark World's grand, enchanted face --
All loth to turn away.

And so the Day, about to yield his breath,
Utters the stars...Read more of this...

Refrain

by Helen Hunt Jackson
 Of all the songs which poets sing 
The ones which are most sweet 
Are those which at close intervals 
A low refrain repeat; 
Some tender word, some syllable, 
Over and over, ever and ever, 
While the song lasts, 
Altering never, 
Music if sung, music if said, 
Subtle like some golden thread 
A shuttle casts, 
In and out on a...Read more of this...

In Due Form

by Laura Riding Jackson
 I do not doubt you.
I know you love me.
It is a fact of your indoor face,
A true fancy of your muscularity.
Your step is confident.
Your look is thorough.
Your stay-beside-me is a pillow
To roll over on
And sleep as on my own upon.

But make me a statement
In due form on endless foolscap
Witnessed before a notary
And sent by post, registered,
To be signed for...Read more of this...

Yes And No

by Laura Riding Jackson
 Across a continent imaginary
Because it cannot be discovered now
Upon this fully apprehended planet—
No more applicants considered,
Alas, alas—

Ran an animal unzoological,
Without a fate, without a fact,
Its private history intact
Against the travesty
Of an anatomy.

Not visible not invisible,
Removed by dayless night,
Did it ever fly its ground
Out of fancy into light,
Into space to replace
Its unwritable decease?

Ah, the minutes twinkle in and out
And in...Read more of this...

Poppies on the Wheat

by Helen Hunt Jackson
 Along Ancona's hills the shimmering heat, 
A tropic tide of air with ebb and flow 
Bathes all the fields of wheat until they glow 
Like flashing seas of green, which toss and beat 
Around the vines. The poppies lithe and fleet 
Seem running, fiery torchmen, to and fro 
To mark the shore. 
The farmer does not know 
That they...Read more of this...

A Calendar of Sonnets: October

by Helen Hunt Jackson
 The month of carnival of all the year, 
When Nature lets the wild earth go its way, 
And spend whole seasons on a single day. 
The spring-time holds her white and purple dear; 
October, lavish, flaunts them far and near; 
The summer charily her reds doth lay 
Like jewels on her costliest array; 
October, scornful, burns them on a...Read more of this...

Unto one who lies at rest

by Helen Hunt Jackson
 Unto one who lies at rest 
'Neath the sunset, in the West, 
Clover-blossoms on her breast. 

Lover of each gracious thing 
Which makes glad the summer-tide, 
From the daisies clustering 
And the violets purple-eyed, 
To those shy and hidden blooms 
Which in forest coverts stay, 
Sending wandering perfumes 
Out as guide to show the way, 
All she knew, to...Read more of this...

Where?

by Helen Hunt Jackson
 My snowy eupatorium has dropped 
Its silver threads of petals in the night; 
No signal told its blossoming had stopped; 
Its seed-films flutter silent, ghostly white: 
No answer stirs the shining air, 
As I ask, "Where?" 

Beneath the glossy leaves of winter-green 
Dead lilly-bells lie low, and in their place 
A rounded disk of pearly pink is seen, 
Which...Read more of this...

Crossed Threads

by Helen Hunt Jackson
 The silken threads by viewless spinners spun, 
Which float so idly on the summer air, 
And help to make each summer morning fair, 
Shining like silver in the summer sun, 
Are caught by wayward breezes, one by one, 
Are blown to east and west and fastened there, 
Weaving on all the roads their sudden snare. 
No sign which road...Read more of this...

Michael Jackson

by James A Emanuel
 There ain't NO-BO-DY
can dance like THAT, 'cept them twins
Jazzlene and Jazzphat....Read more of this...

With The Face

by Laura Riding Jackson
 With the face goes a mirror
As with the mind a world.
Likeness tells the doubting eye
That strangeness is not strange.
At an early hour and knowledge
Identity not yet familiar
Looks back upon itself from later,
And seems itself.

To-day seems now.
With reality-to-be goes time.
With the mind goes a world.
Wit the heart goes a weather.
With the face goes a mirror
As with the body a fear.
Young...Read more of this...

Octobers Bright Blue Weather

by Helen Hunt Jackson
 O suns and skies and clouds of June, 
And flowers of June together, 
Ye cannot rival for one hour 
October's bright blue weather;

When loud the bumblebee makes haste, 
Belated, thriftless vagrant, 
And goldenrod is dying fast, 
And lanes with grapes are fragrant;

When gentians roll their fingers tight 
To save them for the morning, 
And chestnuts fall from satin burrs...Read more of this...

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