Famous Jingling Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Merlin I

by Ralph Waldo Emerson
 Thy trivial harp will never please
Or fill my craving ear;
Its chords should ring as blows the breeze,
Free, peremptory, clear.
No jingling serenader's art,
Nor tinkle of piano strings,
Can make the wild blood start
In its mystic springs.
The kingly bard
Must smite the chords rudely and hard,
As with hammer or with mace,
That they may render back
Artful thunder that conveys
Secrets of the solar track,
Sparks of...Read more of this...

The Gardener XIII: I Asked Nothing

by Rabindranath Tagore
 I asked nothing, only stood at the 
edge of the wood behind the tree.
Languor was still upon the eyes
of the dawn, and the dew in the air.
The lazy smell of the damp grass
hung in the thin mist above the earth.
Under the banyan tree you were
milking the cow with your hands,
tender and fresh as butter.
And I was standing still.
I did...Read more of this...

Sir Launcelot and Queen Guinevere

by Alfred Lord Tennyson
 LIKE souls that balance joy and pain, 
With tears and smiles from heaven again 
The maiden Spring upon the plain 
Came in a sun-lit fall of rain. 
In crystal vapour everywhere 
Blue isles of heaven laugh'd between, 
And far, in forest-deeps unseen, 
The topmost elm-tree gather'd green 
From draughts of balmy air. 

Sometimes the linnet piped his song: 
Sometimes...Read more of this...

Merlin

by Ralph Waldo Emerson
 I
Thy trivial harp will never please 
Or fill my craving ear; 
Its chords should ring as blows the breeze, 
Free, peremptory, clear. 
No jingling serenader's art, 
Nor tinkle of piano strings, 
Can make the wild blood start 
In its mystic springs. 
The kingly bard 
Must smile the chords rudely and hard, 
As with hammer or with mace; 
That they...Read more of this...

Change

by Barry Tebb
 As milled silver I was welcome

In every gutter, tinkling over cobbles

I rang the truth loudly on solid-oak counters

And tills tolled for me clear as bells.



Boldly I gave myself to many,

Slipped from moist palm to pocket,

Pirouetting without points, jingling

With dull coppers and important keys.



First I was lost in a hundred

Children’s essays, found myself

With pearls in secret pockets,

Counterfeit and shiny.

Then I...Read more of this...

The City Bushman

by Henry Lawson
 It was pleasant up the country, City Bushman, where you went, 
For you sought the greener patches and you travelled like a gent; 
And you curse the trams and buses and the turmoil and the push, 
Though you know the squalid city needn't keep you from the bush; 
But we lately heard you singing of the `plains where shade...Read more of this...

Blinks through Blood-shot Walks

by T Wignesan
When at five-thirty
In the rubbed-eye haziness
Of ferreting lonesome night walks
The camera-eye refugee
Asleep in the half awakefulness
Of the hour
Peers out of his high turbanned sockets:
Hyde Park's through road links
London's diurnally estranged couple -
The Arch and Gate.

When at five-thirty
The foot falls gently
Of the vision cut in dark recesses
And the man, finger gingerly on the fly
Gapes dolefully about
For a while
Exchanges a casual passing...Read more of this...

The Sightless Man

by Robert William Service
 Out of the night a crash,
A roar, a rampart of light;
A flame that leaped like a lash,
Searing forever my sight;
Out of the night a flash,
Then, oh, forever the Night!

Here in the dark I sit,
I who so loved the sun;
Supple and strong and fit,
In the dark till my days be done;
Aye, that's the hell of it,
Stalwart and twenty-one.

Marie is stanch...Read more of this...

Arise, O cup-bearer

by Hafez
Arise, O cup-bearer, & bring
Fresh wine for our enrapturing!
O minstrel, of our sorrow sing—
‘O joy of whose delight we dreamed,
O love that erst so easy seemed,
What toil is in thy travelling!’

How in the lov’d one’s tent can I
Have any rest or gaiety?
Ever anon the horsemen cry,
‘O lingering lover, fare thee well!’
Ever I hear the jingling bell
Of waiting steed & harnessry.

O...Read more of this...

Aubade

by Barry Tebb
 Dawn’s my Mr Right, already

Cocks have crowed, birds flown from nests,

The neon lights of Leeds last night still

Sovereign in my sights, limousines and

Pink baloons, tee shirts with green stencilled

Dates of wedding days to come, the worn dance floor,

Jingling arcades where chrome fendered fruit machines

Rest on plush carpets like the ghosts of fifties Chevies,

Dreams for sale on boulevards where forget-me-nots

Are...Read more of this...

Medallion

by Carl Sandburg
 THE BRASS medallion profile of your face I keep always.
It is not jingling with loose change in my pockets.
It is not stuck up in a show place on the office wall.
I carry it in a special secret pocket in the day
And it is under my pillow at night.
The brass came from a long ways off: it was up against...Read more of this...

A Letter From the Trenches to a School Friend

by Charles Sorley
 I have not brought my Odyssey
With me here across the sea;
But you'll remember, when I say
How, when they went down Sparta way,
To sandy Sparta, long ere dawn
Horses were harnessed, rations drawn,
Equipment polished sparkling bright,
And breakfasts swallowed (as the white
Of eastern heavens turned to gold) -
The dogs barked, swift farewells were told.
The sun springs up, the horses neigh,
Crackles the whip...Read more of this...

The Boy Who Laughed At Santa Claus

by Ogden Nash
 In Baltimore there lived a boy.
He wasn't anybody's joy.
Although his name was Jabez Dawes,
His character was full of flaws.


In school he never led his classes,
He hid old ladies' reading glasses,
His mouth was open when he chewed,
And elbows to the table glued.
He stole the milk of hungry kittens,
And walked through doors marked NO ADMITTANCE.
He said he acted thus because
There wasn't...Read more of this...

Fame

by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
 If I should die, to-day, 
To-morrow, maybe, the world would see 
Would waken from sleep, and say, 
"Why here was talent! why here was worth! 
Why here was a luminous light o' the earth. 
A soul as free 
As the winds of the sea: 
To whom was given 
A dower of heaven. 
And fame, and name, and glory belongs...Read more of this...

Graceland

by Carl Sandburg
 TOMB of a millionaire,
A multi-millionaire, ladies and gentlemen,
Place of the dead where they spend every year
The usury of twenty-five thousand dollars
For upkeep and flowers
To keep fresh the memory of the dead.
The merchant prince gone to dust
Commanded in his written will
Over the signed name of his last testament
Twenty-five thousand dollars be set aside
For roses, lilacs, hydrangeas, tulips,
For perfume and color,...Read more of this...

Tease

by D. H. Lawrence
 I will give you all my keys, 
You shall be my ch?telaine, 
You shall enter as you please, 
As you please shall go again. 

When I hear you jingling through 
All the chambers of my soul, 
How I sit and laugh at you 
In your vain housekeeping r?le. 

Jealous of the smallest cover, 
Angry at the simplest door; 
Well,...Read more of this...

The Italian In England

by Robert Browning
 That second time they hunted me
From hill to plain, from shore to sea,
And Austria, hounding far and wide
Her blood-hounds through the countryside,
Breathed hot and instant on my trace,— 
I made six days a hiding-place
Of that dry green old aqueduct
Where I and Charles, when boys, have plucked
The fire-flies from the roof above,
Bright creeping throuoh the moss they love.
—How long it...Read more of this...

The Bells

by Edgar Allan Poe
 I

Hear the sledges with the bells-
Silver bells!
What a world of merriment their melody foretells!
How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,
In the icy air of night!
While the stars that oversprinkle
All the heavens, seem to twinkle
With a crystalline delight;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells
From the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells-
From the jingling and...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...

The Cow

by Victor Hugo
 ("Devant la blanche ferme.") 
 
 {XV., May, 1837.} 


 Before the farm where, o'er the porch, festoon 
 Wild creepers red, and gaffer sits at noon, 
 Whilst strutting fowl display their varied crests, 
 And the old watchdog slumberously rests, 
 They half-attentive to the clarion of their king, 
 Resplendent in the sunshine op'ning wing— 
...Read more of this...

Bridge Over The Aire Book 3

by Barry Tebb
 THE KINGDOM OF MY HEART





1



The halcyon settled on the Aire of our days

Kingfisher-blue it broke my heart in two

Shall I forget you? Shall I forget you?



I am the mad poet first love

You never got over

You are my blue-eyed

Madonna virgin bride

I shall carve ‘MG loves BT’

On the bark of every 

Wind-bent tree in 

East End Park



2



The park itself will blossom

And...Read more of this...

A Satyre Against Mankind

by John Wilmot
 Were I - who to my cost already am
One of those strange, prodigious creatures, man -
A spirit free to choose for my own share
What sort of flesh and blood I pleased to wear,
I'd be a dog, a monkey, or a bear,
Or anything but that vain animal,
Who is so proud of being rational.

His senses are too gross; and he'll contrive
A...Read more of this...

The Drovers Sweetheart

by Henry Lawson
 An hour before the sun goes down 
Behind the ragged boughs, 
I go across the little run 
And bring the dusty cows; 
And once I used to sit and rest 
Beneath the fading dome, 
For there was one that I loved best 
Who'd bring the cattle home. 

Our yard is fixed with double bails, 
Round one the grass is...Read more of this...

Robin Hoods Flight

by James Henry Leigh Hunt
 Robin Hood's mother, these twelve years now,
Has been gone from her earthly home;
And Robin has paid, he scarce knew how,
A sum for a noble tomb.

The church-yard lies on a woody hill,
But open to sun and air:
It seems as if the heaven still
Were looking and smiling there.

Often when Robin looked that way,
He looked through a sweet thin tear;
But he looked...Read more of this...

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