Famous Lit Poems by Famous Poets

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

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The Ballad Of Blasphemous Bill

by Robert William Service
 I took a contract to bury the body of blasphemous Bill MacKie,
Whenever, wherever or whatsoever the manner of death he die--
Whether he die in the light o' day or under the peak-faced moon;
In cabin or dance-hall, camp or dive, mucklucks or patent shoon;
On velvet tundra or virgin peak, by glacier, drift or draw;
In muskeg hollow or canyon gloom, by...Read more of this...

The Hound of Heaven

by Francis Thompson
 I fled Him down the nights and down the days
I fled Him down the arches of the years
I fled Him down the labyrinthine ways
Of my own mind, and in the midst of tears
I hid from him, and under running laughter.
Up vistaed hopes I sped and shot precipitated
Adown titanic glooms of chasme d hears
From those strong feet that followed, followed...Read more of this...

The Creation

by James Weldon Johnson
 And God stepped out on space,
And he looked around and said:
I'm lonely--
I'll make me a world.

And far as the eye of God could see
Darkness covered everything,
Blacker than a hundred midnights
Down in a cypress swamp.

Then God smiled,
And the light broke,
And the darkness rolled up on one side,
And the light stood shining on the other,
And God said: That's good!

Then God reached...Read more of this...

The Road was lit with Moon and star --

by Emily Dickinson
 The Road was lit with Moon and star --
The Trees were bright and still --
Descried I -- by the distant Light
A Traveller on a Hill --
To magic Perpendiculars
Ascending, though Terrene --
Unknown his shimmering ultimate --
But he indorsed the sheen --...Read more of this...

This is the holy hour when the lamp is lit

by Emile Verhaeren
This is the holy hour when the lamp is lit: everything is calm and comforting this evening; and the silence is such that you could hear the falling of feathers.
This is the holy hour when gently the beloved comes, like the breeze or smoke, most gently, most slowly. At first, she says nothing—and I listen; and I catch a glimpse...Read more of this...

On Fields Oer Which the Reapers Hand has Passed

by Henry David Thoreau
 On fields o'er which the reaper's hand has pass'd
Lit by the harvest moon and autumn sun,
My thoughts like stubble floating in the wind
And of such fineness as October airs,
There after harvest could I glean my life
A richer harvest reaping without toil,
And weaving gorgeous fancies at my will
In subtler webs than finest summer haze....Read more of this...

Love Song

by Elinor Wylie
 My own dear love, he is strong and bold 
And he cares not what comes after. 
His words ring sweet as a chime of gold, 
And his eyes are lit with laughter. 
He is jubilant as a flag unfurled -- 
Oh, a girl, she'd not forget him. 
My own dear love, he is all my world, -- 
And I...Read more of this...

The Song of Yesterday

by James Whitcomb Riley
 I 
But yesterday 
I looked away 
O'er happy lands, where sunshine lay 
In golden blots, 
Inlaid with spots 
Of shade and wild forget-me-nots. 

My head was fair 
With flaxen hair, 
And fragrant breezes, faint and rare, 
And, warm with drouth 
From out the south, 
Blew all my curls across my mouth. 

And, cool and sweet, 
My naked feet 
Found...Read more of this...

Death In The Arctic

by Robert William Service
 I

I took the clock down from the shelf;
"At eight," said I, "I shoot myself."
It lacked a minute of the hour,
And as I waited all a-cower,
A skinful of black, boding pain,
Bits of my life came back again. . . .

"Mother, there's nothing more to eat --
Why don't you go out on the street?
Always you sit and cry and cry;
Here at...Read more of this...

Upon A Dying Lady

by William Butler Yeats
 I

Her Courtesy

With the old kindness, the old distinguished grace,
She lies, her lovely piteous head amid dull red hair
propped upon pillows, rouge on the pallor of her face.
She would not have us sad because she is lying there,
And when she meets our gaze her eyes are laughter-lit,
Her speech a wicked tale that we may vie with her,
Matching our broken-hearted wit...Read more of this...

Story of Udaipore:

by Adela Florence Cory Nicolson
   Told by Lalla-ji, the Priest

         "And when the Summer Heat is great,
           And every hour intense,
         The Moghra, with its subtle flowers,
         ...Read more of this...

Casualty

by Seamus Heaney
 I

He would drink by himself
And raise a weathered thumb
Towards the high shelf,
Calling another rum
And blackcurrant, without
Having to raise his voice,
Or order a quick stout
By a lifting of the eyes
And a discreet dumb-show
Of pulling off the top;
At closing time would go
In waders and peaked cap
Into the showery dark,
A dole-kept breadwinner
But a natural for work.
I loved his whole manner,
Sure-footed but too...Read more of this...

The Tower

by William Butler Yeats
 I

What shall I do with this absurdity -
O heart, O troubled heart - this caricature,
Decrepit age that has been tied to me
As to a dog's tail?
 Never had I more
Excited, passionate, fantastical
Imagination, nor an ear and eye
That more expected the impossible -
No, not in boyhood when with rod and fly,
Or the humbler worm, I climbed Ben Bulben's back
And had...Read more of this...

Ikon: The Harrowing of Hell

by Denise Levertov
 Down through the tomb's inward arch
He has shouldered out into Limbo
to gather them, dazed, from dreamless slumber:
the merciful dead, the prophets,
the innocents just His own age and those
unnumbered others waiting here
unaware, in an endless void He is ending
now, stooping to tug at their hands,
to pull them from their sarcophagi,
dazzled, almost unwilling. Didmas,
neighbor in death, Golgotha dust
still streaked on the...Read more of this...

Shagbark Hickory

by Carl Sandburg
 IN the moonlight under a shag-bark hickory tree
Watching the yellow shadows melt in hoof-pools,
Listening to the yes and the no of a woman’s hands,
I kept my guess why the night was glad.

The night was lit with a woman’s eyes.
The night was crossed with a woman’s hands,
The night kept humming an undersong....Read more of this...

The Dead: IV

by Rupert Brooke
 These hearts were woven of human joys and cares, 
Washed marvellously with sorrow, swift to mirth. 
The years had given them kindness. Dawn was theirs, 
And sunset, and the colours of the earth. 
These had seen movement, and heard music; known 
Slumber and waking; loved; gone proudly friended; 
Felt the quick stir of wonder; sat alone; 
Touched flowers and...Read more of this...

A man went before a strange God

by Stephen Crane
 A man went before a strange God --
The God of many men, sadly wise.
And the deity thundered loudly,
Fat with rage, and puffing.
"Kneel, mortal, and cringe
And grovel and do homage
To My Particularly Sublime Majesty."

The man fled.

Then the man went to another God --
The God of his inner thoughts.
And this one looked at him
With soft eyes
Lit with infinite comprehension,
And said, "My...Read more of this...

Five Towns on the B. and O

by Carl Sandburg
 BY day … tireless smokestacks … hungry smoky shanties hanging to the slopes … crooning: We get by, that’s all.
By night … all lit up … fire-gold bars, fire-gold flues … and the shanties shaking in clumsy shadows … almost the hills shaking … all crooning: By God, we’re going to find out or know why....Read more of this...

Sonnet XIV

by Francesco Petrarch
[Pg 246] SONNET XIV. Alma felice, che sovente torni. HE THANKS HER THAT FROM TIME TO TIME SHE RETURNS TO CONSOLE HIM WITH HER PRESENCE.  O blessed spirit! who dost oft return,Ministering comfort to my nights of woe,From eyes which Death, relenting in his blow,Has lit with all the...Read more of this...

Juvenilia An Ode to Natural Beauty

by Alan Seeger
 There is a power whose inspiration fills 
Nature's fair fabric, sun- and star-inwrought, 
Like airy dew ere any drop distils, 
Like perfume in the laden flower, like aught 
Unseen which interfused throughout the whole 
Becomes its quickening pulse and principle and soul. 
Now when, the drift of old desire renewing, 
Warm tides flow northward over valley and field, 
When...Read more of this...

eight roundels

by Rg Gregory
 (roundel: variation of the rondeau
consisting of three stanzas of three
lines each, linked together with but
two rhymes and a refrain at the end
of the first and third group)



1.
the blind rose

today's fullness is tomorrow's gone
(the next day after no one knows)
last year's dream now feeds upon
 what blindly grows

imagine if you like a rose
on which no likely sun has shone
a darkness...Read more of this...

Lit Instructor

by William Stafford
 Day after day up there beating my wings
with all the softness truth requires
I feel them shrug whenever I pause:
they class my voice among tentative things,

And they credit fact, force, battering.
I dance my way toward the family of knowing,
embracing stray error as a long-lost boy
and bringing him home with my fluttering.

Every quick feather asserts a just claim;
it bites like a...Read more of this...

I Love You

by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
 I love your lips when they're wet with wine 
And red with a wild desire; 
I love your eyes when the lovelight lies 
Lit with a passionate fire. 
I love your arms when the warm white flesh 
Touches mine in a fond embrace; 
I love your hair when the strands enmesh 
Your kisses against my face. 

Not for me...Read more of this...

A Translation

by Rudyard Kipling
 Horace, BK. V., Ode 3 "Regulus"-- A Diversity of Creatures
There are whose study is of smells,
 And to attentive schools rehearse
How something mixed with something else
 Makes something worse.

Some cultivate in broths impure
 The clients of our body--these,
Increasing without Venus, cure,
 Or cause, disease.

Others the heated wheel extol,
 And all its offspring, whose concern
Is how to make it farthest...Read more of this...

Bank Robber

by Robert William Service
 I much admire, I must admit,
 The man who robs a Bank;
It takes a lot of guts and grit,
 For lack of which I thank
The gods: a chap 'twould make of me
 You wouldn't ask to tea.

I do not mean a burglar cove
 Who climbs into a house,
From room to room flash-lit to rove
 As quiet as a mouse;
Ah...Read more of this...

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