Famous Loathes Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Psalm 107 part 3

by Isaac Watts
 Intemperance punished and pardoned.

Vain man, on foolish pleasures bent,
Prepares for his own punishment;
What pains, what loathsome maladies,
From luxury and lust arise!

The drunkard feels his vitals waste,
Yet drowns his health to please his taste;
Till all his active powers are lost,
And fainting life draws near the dust.

The glutton groans, and loathes to eat,
His soul abhors delicious meat;
Nature, with heavy loads oppressed,
Would...Read more of this...

The Ghost of Miltiades

by Thomas Moore
 The Ghost of Miltiades came at night,
And he stood by the bed of the Benthamite,
And he said, in a voice, that thrill'd the frame,
"If ever the sound of Marathon's name
Hath fir'd they blood or flush'd thy brow,
Lover of Liberty, rise thee now!"


The Benthamite, yawning, left his bed --
Away to the Stock Exchange he sped,
And he found the Scrip of...Read more of this...

Pan and Luna

by Robert Browning
 Si credere dignum est.--Virgil, Georgics, III, 390


Oh, worthy of belief I hold it was, 
Virgil, your legend in those strange three lines! 
No question, that adventure came to pass 
One black night in Arcadia: yes, the pines, 
Mountains and valleys mingling made one mass 
Of black with void black heaven: the earth's confines, 
The sky's embrace,--below, above, around, 
All...Read more of this...

Their Frailty

by Siegfried Sassoon
 He's got a Blighty wound. He’s safe; and then 
War’s fine and bold and bright. 
She can forget the doomed and prisoned men 
Who agonize and fight. 

He’s back in France. She loathes the listless strain
And peril of his plight, 
Beseeching Heaven to send him home again, 
She prays for peace each night. 

Husbands and sons and lovers; everywhere...Read more of this...

To My Valentine

by Ogden Nash
 More than a catbird hates a cat,
Or a criminal hates a clue,
Or the Axis hates the United States,
That's how much I love you.

I love you more than a duck can swim,
And more than a grapefruit squirts,
I love you more than a gin rummy is a bore,
And more than a toothache hurts.

As a shipwrecked sailor hates the sea,
Or a juggler...Read more of this...

Lydia, by all above (LYDIA, DIC PER OMNES)

by Horace
         Lydia, by all above,
     Why bear so hard on Sybaris, to ruin him with love?
         What change has made him shun
     The playing-ground, who once so well could bear the dust and sun?
  ...Read more of this...

The Men Who Wear My Clothes

by Vernon Scannell
 Sleepless I lay last night and watched the slow 
Procession of the men who wear my clothes: 
First, the grey man with bloodshot eyes and sly 
Gestures miming what he loves and loathes. 

Next came the cheery knocker-back of pints, 
The beery joker, never far from tears, 
Whose loud and public vanity acquaints 
The careful watcher with his private...Read more of this...

Epidermal Macabre

by Theodore Roethke
 Indelicate is he who loathes
The aspect of his fleshy clothes, --
The flying fabric stitched on bone,
The vesture of the skeleton,
The garment neither fur nor hair,
The cloak of evil and despair,
The veil long violated by
Caresses of the hand and eye.
Yet such is my unseemliness:
I hate my epidermal dress,
The savage blood's obscenity,
The rags of my anatomy,
And willingly would I dispense
With false...Read more of this...

The Height of Land

by Duncan Campbell Scott
 Here is the height of land:
The watershed on either hand
Goes down to Hudson Bay
Or Lake Superior;
The stars are up, and far away
The wind sounds in the wood, wearier
Than the long Ojibwa cadence
In which Potàn the Wise
Declares the ills of life
And Chees-que-ne-ne makes a mournful sound
Of acquiescence. The fires burn low
With just sufficient glow
To light the flakes of ash that...Read more of this...

Sonnet XCIX

by Francesco Petrarch
SONNET XCIX. Amor, Fortuna, e la mia mente schiva. THE CAUSES OF HIS WOE.  Love, Fortune, and my melancholy mind,Sick of the present, lingering on the past,[Pg 114]Afflict me so, that envious thoughts I castOn those who life's dark shore have left behind.Love racks my bosom: Fortune's wintry...Read more of this...

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