Famous On The Dole Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Rabbi Ben Ezra

by Robert Browning
 Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be,
The last of life, for which the first was made:
Our times are in His hand
Who saith 'A whole I planned,
Youth shows but half; trust God: see all, nor be afraid!'

Not that, amassing flowers,
Youth sighed 'Which rose make ours,
Which lily leave and then as best recall?'
Not that, admiring stars,
It yearned 'Nor...Read more of this...

Modern Love: L

by George Meredith
 Thus piteously Love closed what he begat:
The union of this ever-diverse pair!
These two were rapid falcons in a snare,
Condemned to do the flitting of the bat.
Lovers beneath the singing sky of May,
They wandered once; clear as the dew on flowers:
But they fed not on the advancing hours:
Their hearts held cravings for the buried day.
Then each applied to each that...Read more of this...

The Wind

by Lucy Maud Montgomery
 O, wind! what saw you in the South,
In lilied meadows fair and far? 
I saw a lover kiss his lass
New-won beneath the evening star. 

O, wind! what saw you in the West
Of passing sweet that wooed your stay? 
I saw a mother kneeling by
The cradle where her first-born lay. 

O, wind! what saw you in the North
That you shall...Read more of this...

To the Belgians

by Laurence Binyon
 O race that Cæsar knew, 
That won stern Roman praise, 
What land not envies you 
The laurel of these days? 
You build your cities rich 
Around each towered hall, —
Without, the statued niche, 
Within, the pictured wall. 
Your ship-thronged wharves, your marts 
With gorgeious Venice vied, 
Peace and her famous arts 
Were yours: though tide on tide 
Of Europe's...Read more of this...

By the Grey Gulf-water

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 Far to the Northward there lies a land, 
A wonderful land that the winds blow over, 
And none may fathom or understand 
The charm it holds for the restless rover; 
A great grey chaos -- a land half made, 
Where endless space is and no life stirreth; 
There the soul of a man will recoil afraid 
From the sphinx-like...Read more of this...

Curfew

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
 I.

Solemnly, mournfully,
Dealing its dole,
The Curfew Bell
Is beginning to toll.

Cover the embers,
And put out the light;
Toil comes with the morning,
And rest with the night.

Dark grow the windows,
And quenched is the fire;
Sound fades into silence,--
All footsteps retire.

No voice in the chambers,
No sound in the hall!
Sleep and oblivion
Reign over all!

II.

The book is completed,
And closed, like the day;
And the hand that has written...Read more of this...

Englands Answer

by Rudyard Kipling
 Truly ye come of The Blood; slower to bless than to ban;
Little used to lie down at the bidding of any man.
Flesh of the flesh that I bred, bone of the bone that I bare;
Stark as your sons shall be -- stern as your fathers were.
Deeper than speech our love, stronger than life our tether,
But we do not fall...Read more of this...

Singer in the Prison The

by Walt Whitman
 1
 O sight of shame, and pain, and dole! 
 O fearful thought—a convict Soul! 
RANG the refrain along the hall, the prison, 
Rose to the roof, the vaults of heaven above, 
Pouring in floods of melody, in tones so pensive, sweet and strong, the like whereof was
 never
 heard,
Reaching the far-off sentry, and the armed guards, who ceas’d...Read more of this...

The Story of Ung

by Rudyard Kipling
 Once, on a glittering ice-field, ages and ages ago,
Ung, a maker of pictures, fashioned an image of snow.
Fashioned the form of a tribesman -- gaily he whistled and sung,
Working the snow with his fingers. Read ye the Story of Ung!

Pleased was his tribe with that image -- came in their hundreds to scan --
Handled it, smelt it, and grunted:...Read more of this...

The Singer

by Alexander Pushkin
 Did you attend? He sang by grove ripe - 
The bard of love, the singer of his mourning.
When fields were silent by the early morning,
To sad and simple sounds of a pipe
Did you attend?

Did you behold in dark of forest leaf 
The bard of love, the singer of his sadness?
The trace of tears, the smile, the utter paleness,
The quiet...Read more of this...

Translations: Dante - Inferno Canto XXVI

by Alan Seeger
 Florence, rejoice! For thou o'er land and sea 
So spread'st thy pinions that the fame of thee 
Hath reached no less into the depths of Hell. 
So noble were the five I found to dwell 
Therein -- thy sons -- whence shame accrues to me 
And no great praise is thine; but if it be 
That truth unveil in...Read more of this...

Making Good

by Robert William Service
 No man can be a failure if he thinks he's a success;
he may not own his roof-tree overhead,
He may be on his uppers and have hocked his evening dress -
(Financially speaking - in the red)
He may have chronic shortage to repay the old home mortgage,
And almost be a bankrupt in his biz.,
But though he skips his dinner,
And each day...Read more of this...

Canzone XVI

by Francesco Petrarch
[Pg 124] CANZONE XVI. Italia mia, benchè 'l parlar sia indarno. TO THE PRINCES OF ITALY, EXHORTING THEM TO SET HER FREE.  O my own Italy! though words are vainThe mortal wounds to close,Unnumber'd, that thy beauteous bosom stain,Yet may it soothe my painTo sigh forth Tyber's woes,Read more of this...

Rain on the Hill

by Lucy Maud Montgomery
 Now on the hill 
The fitful wind is so still 
That never a wimpling mist uplifts,
Nor a trembling leaf drop-laden stirs; 
From the ancient firs 
Aroma of balsam drifts, 
And the silent places are filled 
With elusive odors distilled 
By the rain from asters empearled and frilled, 
And a wild wet savor that dwells 
Far adown in tawny fallows...Read more of this...

The Tournament

by Sidney Lanier
 Joust First.


I.

Bright shone the lists, blue bent the skies,
And the knights still hurried amain
To the tournament under the ladies' eyes,
Where the jousters were Heart and Brain.

II.

Flourished the trumpets: entered Heart,
A youth in crimson and gold.
Flourished again: Brain stood apart,
Steel-armored, dark and cold.

III.

Heart's palfrey caracoled gayly round,
Heart tra-li-ra'd merrily;
But Brain sat still, with never a sound,
So cynical-calm was he.

IV.

Heart's helmet-crest...Read more of this...

The Wind And The Sea

by Paul Laurence Dunbar
I stood by the shore at the death of day,
As the sun sank flaming red;
And the face of the waters that spread away
Was as gray as the face of the dead.
And I heard the cry of the wanton sea
And the moan of the wailing wind;
For love's sweet pain in his heart had he,
But the gray old sea had sinned.
The wind...Read more of this...

Dirge of the Three Queens

by William Shakespeare
 URNS and odours bring away! 
 Vapours, sighs, darken the day! 
Our dole more deadly looks than dying; 
 Balms and gums and heavy cheers, 
 Sacred vials fill'd with tears, 
And clamours through the wild air flying! 

 Come, all sad and solemn shows, 
 That are quick-eyed Pleasure's foes! 
 We convent naught else but woes....Read more of this...

A Channel Passage

by Rupert Brooke
 The damned ship lurched and slithered. Quiet and quick
My cold gorge rose; the long sea rolled; I knew
I must think hard of something, or be sick;
And could think hard of only one thing -- YOU!
You, you alone could hold my fancy ever!
And with you memories come, sharp pain, and dole.
Now there's a choice -- heartache or tortured liver!
A sea-sick...Read more of this...

Yvytot

by Eugene Field
 Where wail the waters in their flaw
A spectre wanders to and fro,
And evermore that ghostly shore
Bemoans the heir of Yvytot.

Sometimes, when, like a fleecy pall,
The mists upon the waters fall,
Across the main float shadows twain
That do not heed the spectre's call.

The king his son of Yvytot
Stood once and saw the waters go
Boiling around with hissing sound
The sullen phantom rocks...Read more of this...

Autumn And Winter

by Algernon Charles Swinburne
 Three months bade wane and wax the wintering moon
Between two dates of death, while men were fain
Yet of the living light that all too soon
Three months bade wane.

Cold autumn, wan with wrath of wind and rain,
Saw pass a soul sweet as the sovereign tune
That death smote silent when he smote again.

First went my friend, in life's mid light of...Read more of this...

from the Ansty Experience

by Rg Gregory
 (a)
they seek to celebrate the word
not to bring their knives out on a poem
dissecting it to find a heart
whose beat lies naked on a table
not to score in triumph on a line
no sensitive would put a nostril to
but simply to receive it as an
offering glimpsing the sacred there

poem probes the poet's once-intention
but each time said budges its truth
afresh (leaving...Read more of this...

A Man (In Memory of H. of M.)

by Thomas Hardy
 I 

In Casterbridge there stood a noble pile, 
Wrought with pilaster, bay, and balustrade 
In tactful times when shrewd Eliza swayed. - 
 On burgher, squire, and clown 
It smiled the long street down for near a mile 

II 

But evil days beset that domicile; 
The stately beauties of its roof and wall 
Passed into sordid hands. Condemned to...Read more of this...

The Last Rhyme of True Thomas

by Rudyard Kipling
 The King has called for priest and cup,
 The King has taken spur and blade
To dub True Thomas a belted knight,
 And all for the sake o' the songs he made.

They have sought him high, they have sought him low,
 They have sought him over down and lea;
They have found him by the milk-white thorn
 That guards the gates...Read more of this...

May 8

by David Lehman
 700 francs will get you $109.91
on this muggy May afternoon
which is good to know since
I just found 700 francs in my wallet
while Dinah Washington was singing
"My Old Flame" I was thinking of where
I was with Glen when Allen Ginsberg died
and if I could relax for one hour
if I knew what that felt like
it would seem like a very long...Read more of this...

Sonnet 07 - The face of all the world is changed I think

by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
 The face of all the world is changed, I think,
Since first I heard the footsteps of thy soul
Move still, oh, still, beside me, as they stole
Betwixt me and the dreadful outer brink
Of obvious death, where I, who thought to sink,
Was caught up into love, and taught the whole
Of life in a new rhythm. The cup of dole
God gave for...Read more of this...

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