Famous Misery Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Praise for Faith

by William Cowper
 Of all the gifts Thine hand bestows,
Thou Giver of all good!
Not heaven itself a richer knows
Than my Redeemer's blood.

Faith too, the blood-receiving grace,
From the same hand we gain;
Else, sweetly as it suits our case,
That gift had been in vain.

Till Thou Thy teaching power apply,
Our hearts refuse to see,
And weak, as a distemper'd eye,
Shut out the view of Thee.

Blind to...Read more of this...

The Assault Heroic

by Robert Graves
 Down in the mud I lay, 
Tired out by my long day 
Of five damned days and nights, 
Five sleepless days and nights,… 
Dream-snatched, and set me where
The dungeon of Despair 
Looms over Desolate Sea, 
Frowning and threatening me 
With aspect high and steep— 
A most malignant keep.
My foes that lay within 
Shouted and made a din, 
Hooted and...Read more of this...

Sonnet XLIII

by Francesco Petrarch
SONNET XLIII. Se col cieco desir che 'l cor distrugge. BLIGHTED HOPE.  Either that blind desire, which life destroysCounting the hours, deceives my misery,[Pg 58]Or, even while yet I speak, the moment flies,Promised at once to pity and to me.Alas! what baneful shade o'erhangs and driesThe seed...Read more of this...

The Months have ends -- the Years -- a knot

by Emily Dickinson
 The Months have ends -- the Years -- a knot --
No Power can untie
To stretch a little further
A Skein of Misery --

The Earth lays back these tired lives
In her mysterious Drawers --
Too tenderly, that any doubt
An ultimate Repose --

The manner of the Children --
Who weary of the Day --
Themself -- the noisy Plaything
They cannot put away --...Read more of this...

The Death Of Marie Toro

by Robert William Service
 We're taking Marie Toro to her home in Père-La-Chaise;
We're taking Marie Toro to her last resting-place.
Behold! her hearse is hung with wreaths till everything is hid
Except the blossoms heaping high upon her coffin lid.
A week ago she roamed the street, a draggle and a ****,
A by-word of the Boulevard and everybody's butt;
A week ago she haunted us, we heard...Read more of this...

Drunkenness has transported us from our own misery

by Omar Khayyam
Drunkenness has transported us from our own misery
here below to untold joys; from our humble condition, it
has raised our heads to the skies. Nevertheless, behold
us finally freed from our thraldom to the body! Behold
us returned again to the earth, whence we came!...Read more of this...

Our Bog Is Dood

by Stevie Smith
 Our Bog is dood, our Bog is dood,
They lisped in accents mild,
But when I asked them to explain
They grew a little wild.
How do you know your Bog is dood
My darling little child?

We know because we wish it so
That is enough, they cried,
And straight within each infant eye
Stood up the flame of pride,
And if you do not think it so
You...Read more of this...

The New Freethinker

by G K Chesterton
 John Grubby who was short and stout 
And troubled with religious doubt, 
Refused about the age of three 
To sit upon the curate's knee; 
(For so the eternal strife must rage 
Between the spirit of the age 
And Dogma, which, as is well known, 
Does simply hate to be outgrown). 
Grubby, the young idea that shoots, 
Outgrew the ages...Read more of this...

The Sprig of Moss

by William Topaz McGonagall
 There lived in Munich a poor, weakly youth,
But for the exact date, I cannot vouch for the truth,
And of seven of a family he was the elder,
Who was named, by his parents, Alois Senefelder. 

But, poor fellow, at home his father was lying dead,
And his little brothers and sisters were depending upon him for bread,
And one evening he was...Read more of this...

Such is the Force of Happiness --

by Emily Dickinson
 Such is the Force of Happiness --
The Least -- can lift a Ton
Assisted by its stimulus --

Who Misery -- sustain --
No Sinew can afford --
The Cargo of Themselves --
Too infinite for Consciousness'
Slow capabilities....Read more of this...

Additions

by Thomas Hardy
 The Fire at Tranter Sweatley's

THEY had long met o' Zundays--her true love and she--
And at junketings, maypoles, and flings;
But she bode wi' a thirtover uncle, and he
Swore by noon and by night that her goodman should be
Naibor Sweatley--a gaffer oft weak at the knee
From taking o' sommat more cheerful than tea--
Who tranted, and moved people's things.

She cried, "O pray...Read more of this...

Alexander And Zenobia

by Anne Bronte
 Fair was the evening and brightly the sun
Was shining on desert and grove,
Sweet were the breezes and balmy the flowers
And cloudless the heavens above. 
It was Arabia's distant land
And peaceful was the hour;
Two youthful figures lay reclined
Deep in a shady bower.

One was a boy of just fourteen
Bold beautiful and bright;
Soft raven curls hung clustering round
A brow of marble white.

The...Read more of this...

Monolog From A Mattress

by Louis Untermeyer
Can that be you, la mouche? Wait till I lift
This palsied eye-lid and make sure... Ah, true.
Come in, dear fly, and pardon my delay
In thus existing; I can promise you
Next time you come you'll find no dying poet—
Without sufficient spleen to see me through,
The joke becomes too tedious a jest.
I am afraid my mind is dull to-day;
I have that—something—heavier on...Read more of this...

Last Lines

by Anne Bronte
 Jan 7th

A dreadful darkness closes in
On my bewildered mind;
O let me suffer and not sin,
Be tortured yet resigned. 

Through all this world of whelming mist
Still let me look to Thee,
And give me courage to resist
The Tempter till he flee.

Weary I am -- O give me strength
And leave me not to faint;
Say Thou wilt comfort me at length
And pity my...Read more of this...

212. Song—Raving Winds Around her Blowing

by Robert Burns
 RAVING winds around her blowing,
Yellow leaves the woodlands strowing,
By a river hoarsely roaring,
Isabella stray’d deploring—


“Farewell, hours that late did measure
Sunshine days of joy and pleasure;
Hail, thou gloomy night of sorrow,
Cheerless night that knows no morrow!


“O’er the past too fondly wandering,
On the hopeless future pondering;
Chilly grief my life-blood freezes,
Fell despair my fancy seizes.


“Life, thou soul of every blessing,
Load to misery...Read more of this...

The Widow and Her Son XXI

by Kahlil Gibran
 Night fell over North Lebanon and snow was covering the villages surrounded by the Kadeesha Valley, giving the fields and prairies the appearance of a great sheet of parchment upon which the furious Nature was recording her many deeds. Men came home from the streets while silence engulfed the night. 

In a lone house near those villages lived a...Read more of this...

The Bad Monk

by Charles Baudelaire
 On the great walls of ancient cloisters were nailed
Murals displaying Truth the saint,
Whose effect, reheating the pious entrails
Brought to an austere chill a warming paint.

In the times when Christ was seeded around,
More than one illustrious monk, today unknown
Took for a studio the funeral grounds
And glorified Death as the one way shown.

—My soul is a tomb, an empty confine
Since eternity...Read more of this...

Society for me my misery

by Emily Dickinson
 Society for me my misery
Since Gift of Thee --...Read more of this...

The Debate Between Villon And His Heart

by Francois Villon
 Who's that I hear?—It's me—Who?—Your heart
Hanging on by the thinnest thread
I lose all my strength, substance, and fluid
When I see you withdrawn this way all alone
Like a whipped cur sulking in the corner
Is it due to your mad hedonism?—
What's it to you?—I have to suffer for it—
Leave me alone—Why?—I'll think about it—
When will you do that?—When I've grown up—
I've...Read more of this...

Modern Love XXIV: The Misery Is Greater

by George Meredith
 The misery is greater, as I live! 
To know her flesh so pure, so keen her sense, 
That she does penance now for no offence, 
Save against Love. The less can I forgive! 
The less can I forgive, though I adore 
That cruel lovely pallor which surrounds 
Her footsteps; and the low vibrating sounds 
That come on me, as...Read more of this...

The Chimney-Sweeper (Experience)

by William Blake
 A little black thing among the snow:
Crying weep, weep, in notes of woe!
Where are thy father & mother? say?
They are both gone up to the church to pray.

Because I was happy upon the heath.
And smil'd among the winters snow:
They clothed me in the clothes of death.
And taught me to sing the notes of woe.

And because I am happy. &...Read more of this...

VI. Evening as slow thy placid shades descend..

by William Lisle Bowles
 EVENING, as slow thy placid shades descend, 
Veiling with gentlest hush the landscape still, 
The lonely battlement, and farthest hill 
And wood; I think of those that have no friend; 
Who now perhaps, by melancholy led, 
From the broad blaze of day, where pleasure flaunts, 
Retiring, wander 'mid thy lonely haunts 
Unseen; and mark the tints that o'er thy...Read more of this...

Self-Dependence

by Matthew Arnold
 Weary of myself, and sick of asking
What I am, and what I ought to be,
At this vessel's prow I stand, which bears me
Forwards, forwards, o'er the starlit sea.

And a look of passionate desire
O'er the sea and to the stars I send:
'Ye who from my childhood up have calm'd me,
Calm me, ah, compose me to the end!

'Ah, once more,' I...Read more of this...

The Dream

by George (Lord) Byron
 I

Our life is twofold; Sleep hath its own world,
A boundary between the things misnamed
Death and existence: Sleep hath its own world,
And a wide realm of wild reality,
And dreams in their development have breath,
And tears, and tortures, and the touch of joy;
They leave a weight upon our waking thoughts,
They take a weight from off waking toils,
They do divide our being;...Read more of this...

Of Course -- I prayed

by Emily Dickinson
 Of Course -- I prayed --
And did God Care?
He cared as much as on the Air
A Bird -- had stamped her foot --
And cried "Give Me" --
My Reason -- Life --
I had not had -- but for Yourself --
'Twere better Charity
To leave me in the Atom's Tomb --
Merry, and Nought, and gay, and numb --
Than this smart Misery....Read more of this...

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