Famous Plaid Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Lachin Y Gair

by George (Lord) Byron
 Away, ye gay landscapes, ye garden of roses! 
In you let the minions of luxury rove; 
Restore me to the rocks, where the snowflake reposes, 
Though still they are sacred to freedom and love: 
Yet, Caledonia, beloved are thy mountains, 
Round their white summits though elements war; 
Though cataracts foam 'stead of smooth-flowing fountains, 
I sigh for the valley...Read more of this...

Datur Hora Quieti

by Sir Walter Scott
 The sun upon the lake is low,
The wild birds hush their song,
The hills have evening's deepest glow,
Yet Leonard tarries long.
Now all whom varied toil and care
From home and love divide,
In the calm sunset may repair
Each to the loved one's side.

The noble dame, on turret high,
Who waits her gallant knight,
Looks to the western beam to spy
The flash of armour bright.
The...Read more of this...

Lines in Praise of Professor Blackie

by William Topaz McGonagall
 Alas! the people's hearts are now full of sorrow
For the deceased Professor Blackie, of Edinboro';
Because he was a Christian man, affable and kind,
And his equal in charitable actions would be hard to find 

'Twas in the year of 1895, March the 2nd, he died at 10 o'clock.
Which to his dear wife, and his adopted son, was a great shock;
And...Read more of this...

The Plaid Dress

by Edna St. Vincent Millay
 Strong sun, that bleach
The curtains of my room, can you not render
Colourless this dress I wear?—
This violent plaid
Of purple angers and red shames; the yellow stripe
Of thin but valid treacheries; the flashy green of kind deeds done
Through indolence high judgments given here in haste; 
The recurring checker of the serious breach of taste?

No more uncoloured than unmade,
I fear, can...Read more of this...

Ode For Mrs. William Settle

by Philip Levine
 In Lake Forest, a suburb of Chicago,
a woman sits at her desk to write
me a letter. She holds a photograph
of me up to the light, one taken
17 years ago in a high school class
in Providence. She sighs, and the sigh
smells of mouthwash and tobacco.
If she were writing by candlelight
she would now be in the dark, for
a living flame would...Read more of this...

92. Suppressed Stanzas of 'The Vision'

by Robert Burns
 WITH secret throes I marked that earth,
That cottage, witness of my birth;
And near I saw, bold issuing forth
 In youthful pride,
A Lindsay race of noble worth,
 Famed far and wide.


Where, hid behind a spreading wood,
An ancient Pict-built mansion stood,
I spied, among an angel brood,
 A female pair;
Sweet shone their high maternal blood,
 And father’s air. 1


An ancient tower 2...Read more of this...

31. Song—My Nanie O!

by Robert Burns
 BEHIND yon hills where Lugar flows,
 ’Mang moors an’ mosses many, O,
The wintry sun the day has clos’d,
 And I’ll awa to Nanie, O.


The westlin wind blaws loud an’ shill;
 The night’s baith mirk and rainy, O;
But I’ll get my plaid an’ out I’ll steal,
 An’ owre the hill to Nanie, O.


My Nanie’s charming, sweet, an’ young;
 Nae artfu’...Read more of this...

The Character Of Holland

by Andrew Marvell
 Holland, that scarce deserves the name of Land,
As but th'Off-scouring of the Brittish Sand;
And so much Earth as was contributed
By English Pilots when they heav'd the Lead;
Or what by th' Oceans slow alluvion fell,
Of shipwrackt Cockle and the Muscle-shell;
This indigested vomit of the Sea
Fell to the Dutch by just Propriety.
Glad then, as Miners that have found the Oar,
They with...Read more of this...

284. Song—Ca' the Yowes to the Knowes (older set)

by Robert Burns
 Chorus.—Ca’ the yowes to the knowes,
Ca’ them where the heather grows,
Ca’ them where the burnie rowes,
 My bonie dearie


AS I gaed down the water-side,
There I met my shepherd lad:
He row’d me sweetly in his plaid,
 And he ca’d me his dearie.
 Ca’ the yowes, &c.


Will ye gang down the water-side,
And see the waves sae sweetly glide
Beneath the hazels spreading...Read more of this...

My Ancestors

by Robert William Service
 A barefoot boy I went to school
 To save a cobbler's fee,
For though the porridge pot was full
 A frugal folk were we;
We baked our bannocks, spun our wool,
 And counted each bawbee.

We reft our living from the soil,
 And I was shieling bred;
My father's hands were warped with toil,
 And crooked with grace he said.
My mother made the...Read more of this...

Pibroch of Donail Dhu

by Sir Walter Scott
 Pibroch of Donuil Dhu,
Pibroch of Donuil,
Wake thy wild voice anew,
Summon Clan-Conuil.
Come away, come away,
Hark to the summons!
Come in your war array,
Gentles and commons.

Come from deep glen and
From mountain so rocky,
The war-pipe and pennon
Are at Inverlochy.
Come every hill-plaid and
True heart that wears one,
Come every steel blade and
Strong hand that bears one.

Leave untended the herd,
The flock without shelter;
Leave the corpse uninterr'd,
The...Read more of this...

Disabled

by Wilfred Owen
 He sat in a wheeled chair, waiting for dark,
And shivered in his ghastly suit of grey,
Legless, sewn short at elbow. Through the park
Voices of boys rang saddening like a hymn,
Voices of play and pleasure after day,
Till gathering sleep had mothered them from him.

About this time Town used to swing so gay
When glow-lamps budded in the light-blue trees
And girls glanced...Read more of this...

The Veteran

by Dorothy Parker
 When I was young and bold and strong,
Oh, right was right, and wrong was wrong!
My plume on high, my flag unfurled,
I rode away to right the world.
"Come out, you dogs, and fight!" said I,
And wept there was but once to die.

But I am old; and good and bad
Are woven in a crazy plaid.
I sit and say, "The world is...Read more of this...

155. Epistle to Mrs. Scott of Wauchope House

by Robert Burns
 GUDEWIFE,I MIND it weel in early date,
When I was bardless, young, and blate,
 An’ first could thresh the barn,
Or haud a yokin’ at the pleugh;
An, tho’ forfoughten sair eneugh,
 Yet unco proud to learn:
When first amang the yellow corn
 A man I reckon’d was,
An’ wi’ the lave ilk merry morn
 Could rank my rig and lass,
 Still shearing, and...Read more of this...

Gathering Song of Donald the Black

by Sir Walter Scott
 Pibroch of Donuil Dhu 
Pibroch of Donuil 
Wake thy wild voice anew, 
Summon Clan Conuil! 
Come away, come away, 
Hark to the summons! 
Come in your war-array, 
Gentles and commons. 

Come from deep glen, and 
From mountain so rocky; 
The war-pipe and pennon 
Are at Inverlocky. 
Come every hill-plaid, and 
True heart that wears one, 
Come every steel blade,...Read more of this...

Cloud

by Sandra Cisneros
If you are a poet, you will see clearly that there is a cloud floating in this sheet of paper. 
-Thich Nhat Hanh 

Before you became a cloud, you were an ocean, roiled and
murmuring like a mouth. You were the shadows of a cloud cross-
ing over a field of tulips. You were the tears of a man who cried
into a...Read more of this...

An Horatian Ode Upon Cromwells Return from Ireland

by Andrew Marvell
 The forward youth that would appear 
Must now forsake his Muses dear, 
Nor in the shadows sing 
His numbers languishing. 
'Tis time to leave the books in dust, 
And oil th' unused armour's rust, 
Removing from the wall 
The corslet of the hall. 
So restless Cromwell could not cease 
In the inglorious arts of peace, 
But through advent'rous war...Read more of this...

Mouths Of Hippopotami And Some Recent Novels

by Ellis Parker Butler
 (with apologies to Frederic Taber Cooper)

I well recall (and who does not)
The circus bill-board hippopotamus,
whose wide distended jaws
For fear and terror were good cause.

That month, that vasty carmine cave,
Could munch with ease a Nubian slave;
In fact, the bill-board hippopot-
amus could bolt a house and lot!

Wide opened, that tremendous mouth
Obscured three-quarters of the south
Side of Schmidt’s barn, and promised me
Thrills,...Read more of this...

I Sing The Body Electric

by Philip Levine
 People sit numbly at the counter 
waiting for breakfast or service. 
Today it's Hartford, Connecticut 
more than twenty-five years after 
the last death of Wallace Stevens. 
I have come in out of the cold 
and wind of a Sunday morning 
of early March, and I seem to be 
crying, but I'm only freezing 
and unpeeled. The waitress brings 
me...Read more of this...

Questionnaire

by Carl Sandburg
 HAVE I told any man to be a liar for my sake?
Have I sold ice to the poor in summer and coal to the poor in winter for the sake of daughters who nursed brindle bull terriers and led with a leash their dogs clothed in plaid wool jackets?
Have I given any man an earful too much of my...Read more of this...

55. The Twa Herds; or The Holy Tulyie

by Robert Burns
 O A’ ye pious godly flocks,
Weel fed on pastures orthodox,
Wha now will keep you frae the fox,
 Or worrying tykes?
Or wha will tent the waifs an’ crocks,
 About the dykes?


The twa best herds in a’ the wast,
The e’er ga’e gospel horn a blast
These five an’ twenty simmers past—
 Oh, dool to tell!
Hae had a bitter black out-cast
 Atween themsel’.


O,...Read more of this...

Five For Country Music

by Lisel Mueller
 I. Insomnia

The bulb at the front door burns and burns.
If it were a white rose it would tire of blooming
through another endless night. 

The moon knows the routine;
it beats the bushes from east to west
and sets empty-handed. Again the one
she is waiting for has outrun the moon. 

II. Old Money

The spotted hands shake as they polish the coins. 

The...Read more of this...

Ivas Pantoum

by Marilyn Hacker
 We pace each other for a long time.
I packed my anger with the beef jerky.
You are the baby on the mountain. I am 
in a cold stream where I led you.

I packed my anger with the beef jerky.
You are the woman sticking her tongue out 
in a cold stream where I led you.
You are the woman with spring water...Read more of this...

Cromwells Return

by Andrew Marvell
 An Horatian Ode upon Cromwell's Return From Ireland

The forward youth that would appear 
Must now forsake his muses dear, 
Nor in the shadows sing, 
His numbers languishing. 
'Tis time to leave the books in dust, 
And oil the unus?d armour's rust: 
Removing from the wall 
The corslet of the hall. 
So restless Cromwell could not cease 
In the inglorious...Read more of this...

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