Famous Log Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Golden Days

by Robert William Service
 Another day of toil and strife,
Another page so white,
Within that fateful Log of Life
That I and all must write;
Another page without a stain
To make of as I may,
That done, I shall not see again
Until the Judgment Day.

Ah, could I, could I backward turn
The pages of that Book,
How often would I blench and burn!
How often loathe to look!
What pages would...Read more of this...

Hemlock and Cedar

by Carl Sandburg
 THIN sheets of blue smoke among white slabs … near the shingle mill … winter morning.
Falling of a dry leaf might be heard … circular steel tears through a log.
Slope of woodland … brown … soft … tinge of blue such as pansy eyes.
Farther, field fires … funnel of yellow smoke … spellings of other yellow in corn stubble.
Bobsled...Read more of this...

Underwater Autumn

by Richard Hugo
 Now the summer perch flips twice and glides
a lateral fathom at the first cold rain,
the surface near to silver from a frosty hill.
Along the weed and grain of log he slides his tail.

Nervously the trout (his stream-toned heart
locked in the lake, his poise and nerve disgraced)
above the stirring catfish, curves in bluegill dreams
and curves beyond the sudden thrust of...Read more of this...

The Old Swimmin-Hole

by James Whitcomb Riley
 OH! the old swimmin'-hole! whare the crick so still and deep
Looked like a baby-river that was laying half asleep,
And the gurgle of the worter round the drift jest below
Sounded like the laugh of something we onc't ust to know
Before we could remember anything but the eyes
Of the angels lookin' out as we left Paradise;
But the merry days of youth...Read more of this...

Snake

by D. H. Lawrence
 A snake came to my water-trough
On a hot, hot day, and I in pyjamas for the heat,
To drink there.
In the deep, strange-scented shade of the great dark carob-tree
I came down the steps with my pitcher
And must wait, must stand and wait, for there he was at the trough before
me.

He reached down from a fissure in the earth-wall in the...Read more of this...

How We Heard the Name

by Alan Dugan
 The river brought down
dead horses, dead men
and military debris,
indicative of war
or official acts upstream,
but it went by, it all
goes by, that is the thing
about the river. Then
a soldier on a log
went by. He seemed drunk
and we asked him Why
had he and this junk
come down to us so
from the past upstream.
''Friends,'' he said, ''the great
Battle of Granicus
has just been won
by...Read more of this...

"Howdy, Honey, Howdy!"

by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Do' a-stan'in' on a jar, fiah a-shinin' thoo,
Ol' folks drowsin' 'roun' de place, wide awake is Lou,
W'en I tap, she answeh, an' I see huh 'mence to grin,
"Howdy, honey, howdy, won't you step right in?"
Den I step erpon de log layin' at de do',
Bless de Lawd, huh mammy an' huh pap's done 'menced to sno',
Now's de time, ef evah, ef...Read more of this...

Diving into the Wreck

by Adrienne Rich
 First having read the book of myths,
and loaded the camera,
and checked the edge of the knife-blade,
I put on
the body-armor of black rubber
the absurd flippers
the grave and awkward mask.
I am having to do this
not like Cousteau with his
assiduous team
aboard the sun-flooded schooner
but here alone.

There is a ladder.
The ladder is always there
hanging innocently
close to the side of the schooner.
We know what...Read more of this...

The Westerner

by Badger Clark
  My fathers sleep on the sunrise plains,
    And each one sleeps alone.
  Their trails may dim to the grass and rains,
    For I choose to make my own.
  I lay proud claim to their blood and name,
    But I lean on no dead kin;
  My name...Read more of this...

hi

by Emil Aarestrup
my name is miss Avivan
please you can always reach me on this email Because I'm not always log into my account. I will be expecting to hear from you soon, my Email id... [email protected] 
...Read more of this...

The Little Old Log Cabin

by Robert William Service
 When a man gits on his uppers in a hard-pan sort of town,
 An' he ain't got nothin' comin' an' he can't afford ter eat,
An' he's in a fix for lodgin' an' he wanders up an' down,
 An' you'd fancy he'd been boozin', he's so locoed 'bout the feet;
When he's feelin' sneakin' sorry an' his belt is hangin' slack,
...Read more of this...

If You Forget Me

by Pablo Neruda
 I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if...Read more of this...

Fleurette

by Robert William Service
 (The Wounded Canadian Speaks)

My leg? It's off at the knee.
Do I miss it? Well, some. You see
 I've had it since I was born;
 And lately a devilish corn.
(I rather chuckle with glee
 To think how I've fooled that corn.)

But I'll hobble around all right.
 It isn't that, it's my face.
Oh I know I'm a hideous sight,
 Hardly a...Read more of this...

Daffy Duck In Hollywood

by John Ashbery
 Something strange is creeping across me.
La Celestina has only to warble the first few bars
Of "I Thought about You" or something mellow from
Amadigi di Gaula for everything--a mint-condition can
Of Rumford's Baking Powder, a celluloid earring, Speedy
Gonzales, the latest from Helen Topping Miller's fertile
Escritoire, a sheaf of suggestive pix on greige, deckle-edged
Stock--to come clattering through the rainbow trellis
Where Pistachio Avenue...Read more of this...

The Sun retired to a cloud

by Emily Dickinson
 The Sun retired to a cloud
A Woman's shawl as big --
And then he sulked in mercury
Upon a scarlet log --
The drops on Nature's forehead stood
Home flew the loaded bees --
The South unrolled a purple fan
And handed to the trees....Read more of this...

Blind Mans Buff

by William Blake
 When silver snow decks Susan's clothes,
And jewel hangs at th' shepherd's nose,
The blushing bank is all my care,
With hearth so red, and walls so fair;
`Heap the sea-coal, come, heap it higher,
The oaken log lay on the fire.'
The well-wash'd stools, a circling row,
With lad and lass, how fair the show!
The merry can of nut-brown ale,
The laughing jest, the love-sick tale,
Till,...Read more of this...

Hiawathas Lamentation

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
 In those days the Evil Spirits,
All the Manitos of mischief,
Fearing Hiawatha's wisdom,
And his love for Chibiabos,
Jealous of their faithful friendship,
And their noble words and actions,
Made at length a league against them,
To molest them and destroy them.
Hiawatha, wise and wary,
Often said to Chibiabos,
"O my brother! do not leave me,
Lest the Evil Spirits harm you!"
Chibiabos, young and heedless,
Laughing shook his coal-black...Read more of this...

To Sir Robert Wroth

by Ben Jonson
  III. — TO SIR ROBERT WROTH.          Art ta'en with neither's vice nor sport : That at great times, art no ambitious guest    Of sheriff 's dinner, or mayor's feast. Nor com'st to view the better cloth of state,    The richer hangings, or crown-plate ; Nor throng'st (when masquing is) to have a sight   There wasted, some not...Read more of this...

The House Of Hospitalities

by Thomas Hardy
 Here we broached the Christmas barrel,
 Pushed up the charred log-ends;
Here we sang the Christmas carol,
 And called in friends.

Time has tired me since we met here
 When the folk now dead were young,
And the viands were outset here
 And quaint songs sung.

And the worm has bored the viol
 That used to lead the tune,
Rust eaten out the dial
...Read more of this...

At the Cedars

by Duncan Campbell Scott
 You had two girls -- Baptiste -- 
One is Virginie --
Hold hard -- Baptiste!
Listen to me.

The whole drive was jammed
In that bend at the Cedars,
The rapids were dammed
With the logs tight rammed
And crammed; you might know
The Devil had clinched them below.

We worked three days -- not a budge,
'She's as tight as a wedge, on the ledge,'
Says our foreman;
'Mon Dieu!...Read more of this...

Pauls Wife

by Robert Frost
 To drive Paul out of any lumber camp
All that was needed was to say to him,
"How is the wife, Paul?"--and he'd disappear.
Some said it was because be bad no wife,
And hated to be twitted on the subject;
Others because he'd come within a day
Or so of having one, and then been Jilted;
Others because he'd had one once, a good one,
Who'd...Read more of this...

The First Chantey

by Rudyard Kipling
 1896

Mine was the woman to me, darkling I found her:
Haling her dumb from the camp, held her and bound her.
Hot rose her tribe on our track ere I had proved her;
Hearing her laugh in the gloom, greatly I loved her.

Swift through the forest we ran, none stood to guard us,
Few were my people and fa; then the flood barred...Read more of this...

A Back-log Song

by Paul Laurence Dunbar
De axes has been ringin' in de woods de blessid day,
An' de chips has been a-fallin' fa' an' thick;
Dey has cut de bigges' hick'ry dat de mules kin tote away,
An' dey's laid hit down and soaked it in de crik.
Den dey tuk hit to de big house an' dey piled de wood erroun'
In de fiah-place f'om ash-flo' to de flue,
While...Read more of this...

Road-Song of the Bandar-Log

by Rudyard Kipling
 (From The Jungle Book)
Here we go in a flung festoon,
Half-way up to the jealous moon!
Don't you envy our pranceful bands?
Don't you wish you had extra hands?
Would n't you like if your tails were -- so -- 
Curved in the shape of a Cupid's bow?
 Now you're angry, but -- never mind,
 Brother, thy tail hangs down behind!


Here we sit...Read more of this...

The Fiddling Wood

by Stephen Vincent Benet
 Gods, what a black, fierce day! The clouds were iron, 
Wrenched to strange, rugged shapes; the red sun winked 
Over the rough crest of the hairy wood 
In angry scorn; the grey road twisted, kinked, 
Like a sick serpent, seeming to environ 
The trees with magic. All the wood was still -- 

Cracked, crannied pines bent like malicious cripples...Read more of this...

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