Famous Miss You Poems by Famous Poets

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

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312. Elegy on the late Miss Burnet of Monboddo

by Robert Burns
 LIFE ne’er exulted in so rich a prize,
As Burnet, lovely from her native skies;
Nor envious death so triumph’d in a blow,
As that which laid th’ accomplish’d Burnet low.


Thy form and mind, sweet maid, can I forget?
 In richest ore the brightest jewel set!
In thee, high Heaven above was truest shown,
 As by His noblest work the Godhead best is...Read more of this...

170. Epigram to Miss Ainslie in Church

by Robert Burns
 FAIR maid, you need not take the hint,
 Nor idle texts pursue:
’Twas guilty sinners that he meant,
 Not Angels such as you....Read more of this...

175. Epigram to Miss Jean Scott

by Robert Burns
 O HAD each Scot of ancient times
 Been, Jeanie Scott, as thou art;
The bravest heart on English ground
 Had yielded like a coward....Read more of this...

148. To Miss Logan with Beattie's Poems

by Robert Burns
 AGAIN the silent wheels of time
 Their annual round have driven,
And you, tho’ scarce in maiden prime,
 Are so much nearer Heaven.


No gifts have I from Indian coasts
 The infant year to hail;
I send you more than India boasts,
 In Edwin’s simple tale.


Our sex with guile, and faithless love,
 Is charg’d, perhaps too true;
But may, dear maid, each lover...Read more of this...

Attitude To A Miss

by Vladimir Mayakovsky
 That night was to decide
if she and I
were to be lovers.
Under cover
of darkness
no one would see, you see.
I bent over her, it’s the truth,
and as I did,
it’s the truth, I swear it,
I said
like a kindly parent:
“Passion’s a precipice – 
so won’t you please
move away?
Move away,
please!”...Read more of this...

Miss Loo

by Walter de la Mare
 When thin-strewn memory I look through, 
I see most clearly poor Miss Loo, 
Her tabby cat, her cage of birds, 
Her nose, her hair -- her muffled words, 
And how she'd open her green eyes, 
As if in some immense surprise, 
Whenever as we sat at tea, 
She made some small remark to me. 

It's always drowsy summer when...Read more of this...

We miss a Kinsman more

by Emily Dickinson
 We miss a Kinsman more
When warranted to see
Than when withheld of Oceans
From possibility

A Furlong than a League
Inflicts a pricklier pain,
Till We, who smiled at Pyrenees --
Of Parishes, complain....Read more of this...

The Face we choose to miss --

by Emily Dickinson
 The Face we choose to miss --
Be it but for a Day
As absent as a Hundred Years,
When it has rode away....Read more of this...

255. Verses to Miss Cruickshank

by Robert Burns
 BEAUTEOUS Rosebud, young and gay,
Blooming in thy early May,
Never may’st thou, lovely flower,
Chilly shrink in sleety shower!
Never Boreas’ hoary path,
Never Eurus’ pois’nous breath,
Never baleful stellar lights,
Taint thee with untimely blights!
Never, never reptile thief
Riot on thy virgin leaf!
Nor even Sol too fiercely view
Thy bosom blushing still with dew!


 May’st thou long, sweet crimson gem,
Richly deck thy native stem;
Till some ev’ning,...Read more of this...

165. Lines Written under the Picture of Miss Burns

by Robert Burns
 CEASE, ye prudes, your envious railing,
 Lovely Burns has charms—confess:
True it is, she had one failing,
 Had a woman ever less?...Read more of this...

467. Inscription to Miss Graham of Fintry

by Robert Burns
 HERE, where the Scottish Muse immortal lives,
 In sacred strains and tuneful numbers joined,
Accept the gift; though humble he who gives,
 Rich is the tribute of the grateful mind.


So may no ruffian-feeling in my breast,
 Discordant, jar thy bosom-chords among;
But Peace attune thy gentle soul to rest,
 Or Love, ecstatic, wake his seraph song,


Or Pity’s notes, in luxury of...Read more of this...

We miss Her not because We see --

by Emily Dickinson
 We miss Her, not because We see --
The Absence of an Eye --
Except its Mind accompany
Abridge Society

As slightly as the Routes of Stars --
Ourselves -- asleep below --
We know that their superior Eyes
Include Us -- as they go --...Read more of this...

323. Epigram on Miss Davies

by Robert Burns
 ASK why God made the gem so small?
 And why so huge the granite?—
Because God meant mankind should set
 That higher value on it....Read more of this...

To try to speak and miss the way

by Emily Dickinson
 To try to speak, and miss the way
And ask it of the Tears,
Is Gratitude's sweet poverty,
The Tatters that he wears --

A better Coat if he possessed
Would help him to conceal,
Not subjugate, the Mutineer
Whose title is "the Soul."...Read more of this...

Little miss brag

by Eugene Field
 Little Miss Brag has much to say
To the rich little lady from over the way
And the rich little lady puts out a lip
As she looks at her own white, dainty slip,
And wishes that she could wear a gown
As pretty as gingham of faded brown!
For little Miss Brag she lays much stress
On the privileges of a gingham dress -
"Aha,
Oho!"

The rich...Read more of this...

179. To Miss Ferrier enclosing Elegy on Sir J. H. Blair

by Robert Burns
 NAE heathen name shall I prefix,
 Frae Pindus or Parnassus;
Auld Reekie dings them a’ to sticks,
 For rhyme-inspiring lasses.


Jove’s tunefu’ dochters three times three
 Made Homer deep their debtor;
But, gien the body half an e’e,
 Nine Ferriers wad done better!


Last day my mind was in a bog,
 Down George’s Street I stoited;
A creeping cauld prosaic fog
 My very sense...Read more of this...

Miss Muffet

by Mother Goose
    Little Miss Muffet
    Sat on a tuffet,
Eating of curds and whey;
    There came a big spider,
    And sat down beside her,
And frightened Miss Muffet away....Read more of this...

Sonnet to the Memory of Miss Maria Linley

by Mary Darby Robinson
 So bends beneath the storm yon balmy flow'r,
Whose spicy blossoms once perfum'd the gale;
So press'd with tears reclines yon lily pale,
Obedient to the rude and beating show'r. 

Still is the LARK, that hov'ring o'er yon spray,
With jocund carol usher'd in the morn;
And mute the NIGHTINGALE, whose tender lay
Melted the feeling mind with sounds forlorn: 

More sweet, MARIA, was thy...Read more of this...

472. To the beautiful Miss Eliza J——n on her principles of Liberty and Eqality

by Robert Burns
 HOW, Liberty! girl, can it be by thee nam’d?
Equality too! hussey, art not asham’d?
Free and Equal indeed, while mankind thou enchainest,
And over their hearts a proud Despot so reignest....Read more of this...

387. Epigram on Miss Fontenelle

by Robert Burns
 SWEET naïveté of feature,
 Simple, wild, enchanting elf,
Not to thee, but thanks to Nature,
 Thou art acting but thyself.


Wert thou awkward, stiff, affected,
 Spurning Nature, torturing art;
Loves and Graces all rejected,
 Then indeed thou’d’st act a part....Read more of this...

I know lives I could miss

by Emily Dickinson
 I know lives, I could miss
Without a Misery --
Others -- whose instant's wanting --
Would be Eternity --

The last -- a scanty Number --
'Twould scarcely fill a Two --
The first -- a Gnat's Horizon
Could easily outgrow --...Read more of this...

Tis not the swaying frame we miss

by Emily Dickinson
 'Tis not the swaying frame we miss,
It is the steadfast Heart,
That had it beat a thousand years,
With Love alone had bent,
Its fervor the electric Oar,
That bore it through the Tomb,
Ourselves, denied the privilege,
Consolelessly presume --...Read more of this...

386. The Rights of Women—Spoken by Miss Fontenelle

by Robert Burns
 WHILE Europe’s eye is fix’d on mighty things,
The fate of Empires and the fall of Kings;
While quacks of State must each produce his plan,
And even children lisp the Rights of Man;
Amid this mighty fuss just let me mention,
The Rights of Woman merit some attention.


First, in the Sexes’ intermix’d connection,
One sacred Right of Woman is, protection.—
The tender flower that lifts...Read more of this...

Miss Lloyd has now went to Miss Green

by Jane Austen
 Miss Lloyd has now sent to Miss Green,
As, on opening the box, may be seen,
Some years of a Black Ploughman's Gauze,
To be made up directly, because
Miss Lloyd must in mourning appear
For the death of a Relative dear--
Miss Lloyd must expect to receive
This license to mourn and to grieve,
Complete, ere the end of the week--
It is better to write than...Read more of this...

Miss Mischievous

by Robert William Service
 Miss Don't-do-this and Don't-do-that
 Has such a sunny smile
You cannot help but chuckle at
 Her cuteness and her guile.
Her locks are silken floss of gold,
 Her eyes are pansy blue:
Maybe of years to eighty old
 The best is two.

Miss Don't-do-this and Don't-do-that
 To roguishness is fain;
To guard that laughter-loving brat
 Is quite a strain;
But when she tires of prank...Read more of this...

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