Famous Looking Back Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Sound Of Sleat

by Jackie Kay
 I always looked out at the world,
And wondered if the world looked back at me,
Standing on the edge of something,
On my face- the wind from the cold sea.


Across the waters were mirrors to see
Faces that looked like me,
People caught between two places,
People crossing over the seas.


And it seemed from my croft
-With the old stones and the sheep,
And the sound...Read more of this...

The House with Nobody in It

by Joyce Kilmer
 Whenever I walk to Suffern along the Erie track
I go by a poor old farmhouse with its shingles broken and black.
I suppose I've passed it a hundred times, but I always stop for 
a minute
And look at the house, the tragic house, the house with nobody in 
it.
I never have seen a haunted house, but I hear there 
are...Read more of this...

Orpheus

by Robert Herrick
 Orpheus he went, as poets tell,
To fetch Eurydice from hell;
And had her, but it was upon
This short, but strict condition;
Backward he should not look, while he
Led her through hell's obscurity.
But ah! it happen'd, as he made
His passage through that dreadful shade,
Revolve he did his loving eye,
For gentle fear or jealousy;
And looking back, that look did sever
Him and Eurydice for...Read more of this...

Isaiah 43: 18-20

by The Bible
Do not earnestly remember
The former things of the past,
Neither consider the things of old,
Following the same old paths
Behold, I am doing a new thing,
Do you not see it, nor understand?
It springs forth as rivers flowing
Through a desert and barren land
It makes a way in the wilderness
Refreshing those that honour me,
So do not be looking back on the past,
But look forward...Read more of this...

Tis good -- the looking back on Grief --

by Emily Dickinson
 'Tis good -- the looking back on Grief --
To re-endure a Day --
We thought the Mighty Funeral --
Of All Conceived Joy --

To recollect how Busy Grass
Did meddle -- one by one --
Till all the Grief with Summer -- waved
And none could see the stone.

And though the Woe you have Today
Be larger -- As the Sea
Exceeds its Unremembered Drop --
They're...Read more of this...

The Aftermath

by Robert William Service
 Although my blood I've shed
 In war's red wrath,
Oh how I darkly dread
 Its aftermath!
Oh how I fear the day
 Of my release,
When I must face the fray
 Of phoney peace!

When I must fend again
 In labour strife;
And toil with sweat and strain
 For kids and wife.
The world is so upset
 I battled for,
That grimly I regret
 The peace...Read more of this...

They Did Not Expect This

by Vernon Scannell
 They did not expect this. Being neither wise nor brave 
And wearing only the beauty of youth's season 
They took the first turning quite unquestioningly 
And walked quickly without looking back even once. 

It was of course the wrong turning. First they were nagged 
By a small wind that tugged at their clothing like a dog; 
Then the rain...Read more of this...

An American in Europe

by Henry Van Dyke
 'Tis fine to see the Old World, and travel up and down
Among the famous palaces and cities of renown, 
To admire the crumbly castles and the statues of the kings, --
But now I think I've had enough of antiquated things. 

So it's home again, and home again, America for me!
My heart is turning home again, and there I long...Read more of this...

The Retreat

by Henry Vaughan
 1 Happy those early days, when I
2 Shin'd in my angel-infancy!
3 Before I understood this place
4 Appointed for my second race,
5 Or taught my soul to fancy ought
6 But a white, celestial thought;
7 When yet I had not walk'd above
8 A mile or two from my first love,
9 And looking back (at that short space)
10 Could see a glimpse...Read more of this...

In Memory of Sigmund Freud

by Wystan Hugh (W H) Auden
When there are so many we shall have to mourn,when grief has been made so public, and exposedto the critique of a whole epochthe frailty of our conscience and anguish, of whom shall we speak? For every day they dieamong us, those who were doing us some good,who knew it was never enough buthoped to improve a little by living....Read more of this...

Thanksgiving

by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
 We walk on starry fields of white
And do not see the daisies;
For blessings common in our sight
We rarely offer praises.
We sigh for some supreme delight
To crown our lives with splendor,
And quite ignore our daily store
Of pleasures sweet and tender.

Our cares are bold and push their way
Upon our thought and feeling.
They hang about us all the day,
Our time from pleasure...Read more of this...

Home Burial

by Robert Frost
 He saw her from the bottom of the stairs
Before she saw him. She was starting down,
Looking back over her shoulder at some fear.
She took a doubtful step and then undid it
To raise herself and look again. He spoke
Advancing toward her: 'What is it you see
From up there always -- for I want to know.'
She turned and sank upon her...Read more of this...

America for Me

by Henry Van Dyke
 'Tis fine to see the Old World and travel up and down 
Among the famous palaces and cities of renown, 
To admire the crumblyh castles and the statues and kings 
But now I think I've had enough of antiquated things. 

So it's home again, and home again, America for me! 
My heart is turning home again and there I...Read more of this...

Hiawathas Wooing

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
 "As unto the bow the cord is, 
So unto the man is woman; 
Though she bends him, she obeys him, 
Though she draws him, yet she follows; 
Useless each without the other!"
Thus the youthful Hiawatha 
Said within himself and pondered, 
Much perplexed by various feelings, 
Listless, longing, hoping, fearing, 
Dreaming still of Minnehaha, 
Of the lovely Laughing Water, 
In...Read more of this...

High Noon

by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
 Time’s finger on the dial of my life
Points to high noon! And yet the half-spent day
Leaves less than half remaining, for the dark, 
Bleak shadows of the grave engulf the end.

To those who burn the candle to the stick, 
The sputtering socket yields but little light.
Long life is sadder than early death.
We cannot count on raveled threads of age
Whereof...Read more of this...

In Memoriam A. H. H.

by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Strong Son of God, immortal Love,
   Whom we, that have not seen thy face,
   By faith, and faith alone, embrace,
Believing where we cannot prove;
 
Thine are these orbs of light and shade;
   Thou madest Life in man and brute;
   Thou madest Death; and lo, thy foot
Is on the skull which thou hast...Read more of this...

Autumn Perspective

by Erica Jong
 Now, moving in, cartons on the floor,
the radio playing to bare walls,
picture hooks left stranded
in the unsoiled squares where paintings were,
and something reminding us
this is like all other moving days;
finding the dirty ends of someone else's life,
hair fallen in the sink, a peach pit,
and burned-out matches in the corner;
things not preserved, yet never swept away
like fragments of disturbing dreams
we...Read more of this...

The Elementary Scene

by Randall Jarrell
 Looking back in my mind I can see 
The white sun like a tin plate 
Over the wooden turning of the weeds; 
The street jerking --a wet swing-- 
To end by the wall the children sang. 

The thin grass by the girls' door, 
Trodden on, straggling, yellow and rotten, 
And the gaunt field with its one tied cow-- 
The...Read more of this...

The Blues

by William Matthews
 What did I think, a storm clutching a clarinet
and boarding a downtown bus, headed for lessons?
I had pieces to learn by heart, but at twelve

you think the heart and memory are different.
"'It's a poor sort of memory that only works
backwards,' the Queen remarked." Alice in Wonderland.

Although I knew the way music can fill a room,
even with loneliness, which is...Read more of this...

The Old Dust

by Li Po
 The living is a passing traveler;
The dead, a man come home.
One brief journey betwixt heaven and earth,
Then, alas! we are the same old dust of ten thousand ages.
The rabbit in the moon pounds the medicine in vain;
Fu-sang, the tree of immortality, has crumbled to kindling wood.
Man dies, his white bones are dumb without a word
When the green pines feel...Read more of this...

On Turning Ten

by Billy Collins
 The whole idea of it makes me feel
like I'm coming down with something,
something worse than any stomach ache
or the headaches I get from reading in bad light--
a kind of measles of the spirit,
a mumps of the psyche,
a disfiguring chicken pox of the soul.

You tell me it is too early to be looking back,
but that is because you have forgotten
the...Read more of this...

Robin Hood A Child

by James Henry Leigh Hunt
 It was the pleasant season yet,
When the stones at cottage doors
Dry quickly, while the roads are wet,
After the silver showers.

The green leaves they looked greener still,
And the thrush, renewing his tune,
Shook a loud note from his gladsome bill
Into the bright blue noon.

Robin Hood's mother looked out, and said
"It were a shame and a sin
For fear of getting a wet...Read more of this...

It ceased to hurt me though so slow

by Emily Dickinson
 It ceased to hurt me, though so slow
I could not feel the Anguish go --
But only knew by looking back --
That something -- had benumbed the Track --

Nor when it altered, I could say,
For I had worn it, every day,
As constant as the Childish frock --
I hung upon the Peg, at night.

But not the Grief -- that nestled close
As...Read more of this...

At Thirty-Five

by Robert William Service
 Three score and ten, the psalmist saith,
And half my course is well-nigh run;
I've had my flout at dusty death,
I've had my whack of feast and fun.
I've mocked at those who prate and preach;
I've laughed with any man alive;
But now with sobered heart I reach
The Great Divide of Thirty-five.

And looking back I must confess
I've little cause to feel elate.
I've played...Read more of this...

Observation Car

by Alec Derwent (A D) Hope
 To be put on the train and kissed and given my ticket, 
Then the station slid backward, the shops and the neon lighting, 
Reeling off in a drunken blur, with a whole pound note in my pocket 
And the holiday packed with Perhaps. It used to be very exciting. 

The present and past were enough. I did not mind...Read more of this...

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