Famous Keener Poems by Famous Poets

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

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The Last of the Light Brigade

by Rudyard Kipling
 1891

There were thirty million English who talked of England's might,
There were twenty broken troopers who lacked a bed for the night.
They had neither food nor money, they had neither service nor trade;
They were only shiftless soldiers, the last of the Light Brigade.

They felt that life was fleeting; they kuew not that art was long,
That though they were dying of...Read more of this...

Walking the Dog

by Howard Nemerov
 Two universes mosey down the street
Connected by love and a leash and nothing else.
Mostly I look at lamplight through the leaves
While he mooches along with tail up and snout down,
Getting a secret knowledge through the nose
Almost entirely hidden from my sight.

We stand while he's enraptured by a bush
Till I can't stand our standing any more
And haul him off; for...Read more of this...

Mycerinus

by Matthew Arnold
 'Not by the justice that my father spurn'd,
Not for the thousands whom my father slew,
Altars unfed and temples overturn'd,
Cold hearts and thankless tongues, where thanks are due;
Fell this dread voice from lips that cannot lie,
Stern sentence of the Powers of Destiny.

'I will unfold my sentence and my crime.
My crime--that, rapt in reverential awe,
I sate obedient, in the fiery prime
Of...Read more of this...

The Peace Of Dives

by Rudyard Kipling
 The Word came down to Dives in Torment where he lay:
"Our World is full of wickedness, My Children maim and slay,
 "And the Saint and Seer and Prophet
 "Can make no better of it
"Than to sanctify and prophesy and pray.

"Rise up, rise up, thou Dives, and take again thy gold,
"And thy women and thy housen as they were to...Read more of this...

Sonnet LXIII

by Francesco Petrarch
SONNET LXIII. Occhi, piangete; accompagnate il core. DIALOGUE BETWEEN THE POET AND HIS EYES.  Playne ye, myne eyes, accompanye my harte,For, by your fault, lo, here is death at hand!Ye brought hym first into this bitter band,And of his harme as yett ye felt no part;But now ye shall: Lo! here...Read more of this...

Stanzas

by Anne Bronte
 Oh, weep not, love! each tear that springs
In those dear eyes of thine,
To me a keener suffering brings,
Than if they flowed from mine. 
And do not droop! however drear
The fate awaiting thee;
For my sake combat pain and care,
And cherish life for me! 

I do not fear thy love will fail;
Thy faith is true, I know;
But, oh, my love! thy...Read more of this...

The Violet Pressed in a Copy of Shakespeare

by Duncan Campbell Scott
 Here in the inmost of the master's heart
This violet crisp with early dew
Has come to leave her beauty and to part
With all her vivid hue.

And while in hollow glades and dells of musk,
Her fellows will reflower in bands,
Clasping the deeps of shade and emerald dusk,
With sweet inviolate hands,

She will lie here, a ghost of their delight,
Their lucent stems all...Read more of this...

The Rape of the Lock: Canto 1

by Alexander Pope
 Nolueram, Belinda, tuos violare capillos;
Sedjuvat, hoc precibus me tribuisse tuis.
(Martial, Epigrams 12.84)
What dire offence from am'rous causes springs, 
What mighty contests rise from trivial things,
I sing--This verse to Caryl, Muse! is due:
This, ev'n Belinda may vouchsafe to view:
Slight is the subject, but not so the praise,
If she inspire, and he approve my lays.
Say what strange motive, Goddess! could compel
A...Read more of this...

Sonnet XC

by Francesco Petrarch
SONNET XC. Vago augelletto che cantando vai. THE PLAINTIVE SONG OF A BIRD RECALLS TO HIM HIS OWN KEENER SORROW.  Poor solitary bird, that pour'st thy lay;Or haply mournest the sweet season gone:As chilly night and winter hurry on,And day-light fades and summer flies away;If as the cares that swell thy...Read more of this...

November Evening

by Lucy Maud Montgomery
 Come, for the dusk is our own; let us fare forth together,
With a quiet delight in our hearts for the ripe, still, autumn weather,
Through the rustling valley and wood and over the crisping meadow,
Under a high-sprung sky, winnowed of mist and shadow. 

Sharp is the frosty air, and through the far hill-gaps showing
Lucent sunset lakes of crocus and green...Read more of this...

The Idea of Order at Key West

by Wallace Stevens
She sang beyond the genius of the sea.
The water never formed to mind or voice,
Like a body wholly body, fluttering
Its empty sleeves; and yet its mimic motion
Made constant cry, caused constantly a cry,
That was not ours although we understood,
Inhuman, of the veritable ocean.

The sea was not a mask. No more was she.
The song and water were not medleyed sound
Even if...Read more of this...

Peter Anderson And Co

by Henry Lawson
 He had offices in Sydney, not so many years ago, 
And his shingle bore the legend `Peter Anderson and Co.', 
But his real name was Careless, as the fellows understood -- 
And his relatives decided that he wasn't any good. 
'Twas their gentle tongues that blasted any `character' he had -- 
He was fond of beer and leisure --...Read more of this...

Sympathy

by Paul Laurence Dunbar
 I know what the caged bird feels, alas! 
When the sun is bright on the upland slopes; 
When the wind stirs soft through the springing grass, 
And the river flows like a stream of glass; 
When the first bird sings and the first bud opes, 
And the faint perfume from its chalice steals-- 
I know what the caged bird...Read more of this...

The Big Top

by Joyce Kilmer
 The boom and blare of the big brass band is cheering 
to my heart
And I like the smell of the trampled grass and elephants and hay.
I take off my hat to the acrobat with his delicate, strong art,
And the motley mirth of the chalk-faced clown drives all my care 
away.
I wish I could feel as they must feel, these...Read more of this...

Cromwells Return

by Andrew Marvell
 An Horatian Ode upon Cromwell's Return From Ireland

The forward youth that would appear 
Must now forsake his muses dear, 
Nor in the shadows sing, 
His numbers languishing. 
'Tis time to leave the books in dust, 
And oil the unus?d armour's rust: 
Removing from the wall 
The corslet of the hall. 
So restless Cromwell could not cease 
In the inglorious...Read more of this...

Parting Address From Z.Z. To A.E

by Anne Bronte
 O weep not, love! each tear that springs
In those dear eyes of thine,
To me a keener suffering brings
Than if they flowed from mine. 
And do not droop! however drear
The fate awaiting thee.
For my sake, combat pain and care,
And cherish life for me! 

I do not fear thy love will fail,
Thy faith is true I know;
But O! my love! thy...Read more of this...

William Jones

by Edgar Lee Masters
 Once in a while a curious weed unknown to me,
Needing a name from my books;
Once in a while a letter from Yeomans.
Out of the mussel-shells gathered along the shore
Sometimes a pearl with a glint like meadow rue:
Then betimes a letter from Tyndall in England,
Stamped with the stamp of Spoon River.
I, lover of Nature, beloved for my love of her,
Held...Read more of this...

The Blue Bowl

by Jane Kenyon
 Like primitives we buried the cat
with his bowl. Bare-handed
we scraped sand and gravel
back into the hole.
 They fell with a hiss
and thud on his side,
on his long red fur, the white feathers
between his toes, and his
long, not to say aquiline, nose.

We stood and brushed each other off.
There are sorrows keener than these.

Silent the rest of the day, we worked,
ate,...Read more of this...

Sonnet XXI: Why Do I Live

by Mary Darby Robinson
 Why do I live to loath the cheerful day,
To shun the smiles of Fame, and mark the hours
On tardy pinions move, while ceaseless show'rs
Down my wan cheek in lucid currents stray?
My tresses all abound, nor gems display,
Nor scents Arabian! on my path no flow'rs
Imbibe the morn's resuscitating pow'rs,
For one blank sorrow, saddens all my way!
As slow the radiant Sun...Read more of this...

Sympathy

by
I know what the caged bird feels, alas!
   When the sun is bright on the upland slopes;
When the wind stirs soft through the springing grass,
And the river flows like a stream of glass;
   When the first bird sings and the first bud opes,
And the faint perfume from its chalice steals—
I know what the caged bird feels!

I...Read more of this...

The Song Of The Camp-Fire

by Robert William Service
 Heed me, feed me, I am hungry, I am red-tongued with desire;
Boughs of balsam, slabs of cedar, gummy fagots of the pine,
Heap them on me, let me hug them to my eager heart of fire,
Roaring, soaring up to heaven as a symbol and a sign.
Bring me knots of sunny maple, silver birch and tamarack;
Leaping, sweeping, I will lap them...Read more of this...

Sonnet XXVII: Oh! Ye Bright Stars

by Mary Darby Robinson
 Oh! ye bright Stars! that on the Ebon fields
Of Heav'n's empire, trembling seems to stand;
'Till rosy morn unlocks her portal bland,
Where the proud Sun his fiery banner wields!
To flames, less fierce than mine, your lustre yields,
And pow'rs more strong my countless tears command;
Love strikes the feeling heart with ruthless hand,
And only spares the breast which dullness shields!
Since, then, capricious...Read more of this...

An Horatian Ode Upon Cromwells Return from Ireland

by Andrew Marvell
 The forward youth that would appear 
Must now forsake his Muses dear, 
Nor in the shadows sing 
His numbers languishing. 
'Tis time to leave the books in dust, 
And oil th' unused armour's rust, 
Removing from the wall 
The corslet of the hall. 
So restless Cromwell could not cease 
In the inglorious arts of peace, 
But through advent'rous war...Read more of this...

34. Remorse: A Fragment

by Robert Burns
 OF all the numerous ills that hurt our peace,
That press the soul, or wring the mind with anguish
Beyond comparison the worst are those
By our own folly, or our guilt brought on:
In ev’ry other circumstance, the mind
Has this to say, “It was no deed of mine:”
But, when to all the evil of misfortune
This sting is added, “Blame thy foolish self!”
Or...Read more of this...

The Task: Book IV The Winter Evening (excerpts)

by William Cowper
 Hark! 'tis the twanging horn! O'er yonder bridge,
That with its wearisome but needful length
Bestrides the wintry flood, in which the moon
Sees her unwrinkled face reflected bright,
He comes, the herald of a noisy world,
With spatter'd boots, strapp'd waist, and frozen locks;
News from all nations lumb'ring at his back.
True to his charge, the close-pack'd load behind,
Yet careless what he brings, his...Read more of this...

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