Famous Planted Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Sonnet CXVI

by Francesco Petrarch
[Pg 145] SONNET CXVI. Non Tesin, Po, Varo, Arno, Adige e Tebro. HE EXTOLS THE LAUREL AND ITS FAVOURITE STREAM.  Not all the streams that water the bright earth,Not all the trees to which its breast gives birth,Can cooling drop or healing balm impartTo slack the fire which scorches...Read more of this...

The Little Park Planted

by Yehuda Amichai
 The little park planted in memory of a boy
who fell in the war begins 
to resemble him
as he was twenty eight years ago.
Year by year they look more alike.
His old parents come almost daily
to sit on a bench
and look at him.

And every night the memory in the garden
hums like a little motor.
During the day you can't hear it....Read more of this...

54. Man was made to Mourn: A Dirge

by Robert Burns
 WHEN chill November’s surly blast
 Made fields and forests bare,
One ev’ning, as I wander’d forth
 Along the banks of Ayr,
I spied a man, whose aged step
 Seem’d weary, worn with care;
His face furrow’d o’er with years,
 And hoary was his hair.


“Young stranger, whither wand’rest thou?”
 Began the rev’rend sage;
“Does thirst of wealth thy step constrain,
 Or youthful pleasure’s rage?
Or...Read more of this...

The Tree of Laughing Bells

by Vachel Lindsay
 [A Poem for Aviators]


How the Wings Were Made

From many morning-glories 
That in an hour will fade, 
From many pansy buds 
Gathered in the shade, 
From lily of the valley 
And dandelion buds, 
From fiery poppy-buds 
Are the Wings of the Morning made. 


The Indian Girl Who Made Them

These, the Wings of the Morning, 
An Indian Maiden wove, 
Intertwining subtilely...Read more of this...

Nuremberg

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
IN the valley of the Pegnitz, where across broad meadowlands 
Rise the blue Franconian mountains, Nuremberg, the ancient, stands. 

Quaint old town of toil and traffic, quaint old town of art and song, 
Memories haunt thy pointed gables, like the rooks that round them throng: 

Memories of the Middle Ages, when the emperors, rough and bold, 5 
Had their dwelling...Read more of this...

Wild Peaches

by Elinor Wylie
 1

When the world turns completely upside down 
You say we'll emigrate to the Eastern Shore 
Aboard a river-boat from Baltimore; 
We'll live among wild peach trees, miles from town, 
You'll wear a coonskin cap, and I a gown 
Homespun, dyed butternut's dark gold colour. 
Lost, like your lotus-eating ancestor, 
We'll swim in milk and honey till we drown.

The winter...Read more of this...

Little-oh dear

by Eugene Field
 See, what a wonderful garden is here,
Planted and trimmed for my Little-Oh-Dear!
Posies so gaudy and grass of such brown -
Search ye the country and hunt ye the town
And never ye'll meet with a garden so *****
As this one I've made for my Little-Oh-Dear!

Marigolds white and buttercups blue,
Lilies all dabbled with honey and dew,
The cactus that trails over trellis and...Read more of this...

The Drunkards Funeral

by Vachel Lindsay
 "Yes," said the sister with the little pinched face,
The busy little sister with the funny little tract: —
"This is the climax, the grand fifth act.
There rides the proud, at the finish of his race.
There goes the hearse, the mourners cry,
The respectable hearse goes slowly by.
The wife of the dead has money in her purse,
The children are in health, so...Read more of this...

The Two Trees

by William Butler Yeats
 Beloved, gaze in thine own heart,
The holy tree is growing there;
From joy the holy branches start,
And all the trembling flowers they bear.
The changing colours of its fruit
Have dowered the stars with metry light;
The surety of its hidden root
Has planted quiet in the night;
The shaking of its leafy head
Has given the waves their melody,
And made my lips and music wed,
Murmuring...Read more of this...

523. Song—The Cooper o' Cuddy

by Robert Burns
 Chorus—We’ll hide the Cooper behint the door,
Behint the door, behint the door,
We’ll hide the Cooper behint the door,
 And cover him under a mawn, O.


THE COOPER o’ Cuddy came here awa,
He ca’d the girrs out o’er us a’;
An’ our gudewife has gotten a ca’,
 That’s anger’d the silly gudeman O.
 We’ll hide the Cooper, &c.


He sought them out, he...Read more of this...

The Fox And Crane

by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
 ONCE two persons uninvited

Came to join my dinner table;
For the nonce they lived united,

Fox and crane yclept in fable.

Civil greetings pass'd between us

Then I pluck'd some pigeons tender
For the fox of jackal-genius,

Adding grapes in full-grown splendour.

Long-neck'd flasks I put as dishes

For the crane, without delaying,
Fill'd with gold and silver fishes,

In the limpid water playing.

Had ye witness'd Reynard planted

At his...Read more of this...

525. Song—Had I the wyte she bade me

by Robert Burns
 HAD I the wyte, had I the wyte,
 Had I the wyte? she bade me;
She watch’d me by the hie-gate side,
 And up the loan she shaw’d me.
And when I wadna venture in,
 A coward loon she ca’d me:
Had Kirk an’ State been in the gate,
 I’d lighted when she bade me.


Sae craftilie she took me ben,
 And bade...Read more of this...

310. Tam o' Shanter: A Tale

by Robert Burns
 WHEN chapman billies leave the street,
And drouthy neibors, neibors, meet;
As market days are wearing late,
And folk begin to tak the gate,
While we sit bousing at the nappy,
An’ getting fou and unco happy,
We think na on the lang Scots miles,
The mosses, waters, slaps and stiles,
That lie between us and our hame,
Where sits our sulky, sullen dame,
Gathering her brows like gathering...Read more of this...

Property

by Robert William Service
 The red-roofed house of dream design
 Looks three ways on the sea;
For fifty years I've made it mine,
 And held it part of me.
The pines I planted in my youth
 Triumpantly are tall . . .
Yet now I know with sorry sooth
 I have to leave it all.

Hard-hewn from out the living rock
 And salty from the tide,
My house...Read more of this...

The Wild Honey-Suckle

by Philip Freneau
 Fair flower, that dost so comely grow,
Hid in this silent, dull retreat,
Untouched thy honied blossoms blow,
Unseen thy little branches greet;
...No roving foot shall crush thee here,
...No busy hand provoke a tear.

By Nature's self in white arrayed,
She bade thee shun the vulgar eye,
And planted here the gaurdian shade,
And sent soft waters murmuring by;
...Thus quietly thy summer goes,
...Thy days declinging to...Read more of this...

A Planted Life -- diversified

by Emily Dickinson
 A Planted Life -- diversified
With Gold and Silver Pain
To prove the presence of the Ore
In Particles -- 'tis when

A Value struggle -- it exist --
A Power -- will proclaim
Although Annihilation pile
Whole Chaoses on Him --...Read more of this...

I See The Boys Of Summer

by Dylan Thomas
 I

I see the boys of summer in their ruin
Lay the gold tithings barren,
Setting no store by harvest, freeze the soils;
There in their heat the winter floods
Of frozen loves they fetch their girls,
And drown the cargoed apples in their tides.

These boys of light are curdlers in their folly,
Sour the boiling honey;
The jacks of frost they finger in the hives;
There in...Read more of this...

Voltaire at Ferney

by Wystan Hugh (W H) Auden
Perfectly happy now, he looked at his estate.
An exile making watches glanced up as he passed
And went on working; where a hospital was rising fast,
A joiner touched his cap; an agent came to tell
Some of the trees he'd planted were progressing well.
The white alps glittered. It was summer. He was very great.

Far off in Paris where his enemies
Whsipered that he...Read more of this...

Epistles to Several Persons: Epistle IV To Richard Boyle

by Alexander Pope
 Est brevitate opus, ut currat sententia, neu se 
Impediat verbis lassas onerantibus aures: 
Et sermone opus est modo tristi, saepe jocoso, 
Defendente vicem modo Rhetoris atque Poetae, 
Interdum urbani, parcentis viribus, atque
Extenuantis eas consulto.
(Horace, Satires, I, x, 17-22)
'Tis strange, the miser should his cares employ 
To gain those riches he can ne'er enjoy:
Is it less strange, the prodigal should...Read more of this...

The City Planners

by Margaret Atwood
 Cruising these residential Sunday
streets in dry August sunlight:
what offends us is
the sanities:
the houses in pedantic rows, the planted
sanitary trees, assert
levelness of surface like a rebuke
to the dent in our car door.
No shouting here, or
shatter of glass; nothing more abrupt
than the rational whine of a power mower
cutting a straight swath in the discouraged grass.

But though the driveways neatly
sidestep hysteria
by being...Read more of this...

The Battle of Abu Klea

by William Topaz McGonagall
 Ye sons of Mars, come join with me,
And sing in praise of Sir Herbert Stewart's little army,
That made ten thousand Arabs flee
At the charge of the bayonet at Abu Klea. 

General Stewart's force was about fifteen hundred all told,
A brave little band, but, like lions bold,
They fought under their brave and heroic commander,
As gallant and as skilful as the...Read more of this...

A Black Man Talks of Reaping

by Arna Bontemps
 I have sown beside all waters in my day.
I planted deep, within my heart the fear
that wind or fowl would take the grain away.
I planted safe against this stark, lean year. 

I scattered seed enough to plant the land
in rows from Canada to Mexico
but for my reaping only what the hand
can hold at once is all that I can...Read more of this...

Psalm 92 part 2

by Isaac Watts
 v.12ff 
L. M.
The church is the garden of God.

Lord, 'tis a pleasant thing to stand
In gardens planted by thine hand;
Let me within thy courts be seen,
Like a young cedar, fresh and green.

There grow thy saints in faith and love,
Blest with thine influence from above;
Not Lebanon with all its trees
Yields such a comely sight as these.

The plants of grace shall...Read more of this...

Meditations In Time Of Civil War

by William Butler Yeats
 I. Ancestral Houses

Surely among a rich man's flowering lawns,
Amid the rustle of his planted hills,
Life overflows without ambitious pains;
And rains down life until the basin spills,
And mounts more dizzy high the more it rains
As though to choose whatever shape it wills
And never stoop to a mechanical
Or servile shape, at others' beck and call.

Mere dreams, mere dreams! Yet Homer had...Read more of this...

Oranges

by Gary Soto
The first time I walked
With a girl, I was twelve,
Cold, and weighted down
With two oranges in my jacket.
December. Frost cracking
Beneath my steps, my breath
Before me, then gone,
As I walked toward
Her house, the one whose
Porch light burned yellow
Night and day, in any weather.
A dog barked at me, until
She came out pulling
At her gloves, face bright
With rouge. I smiled,
Touched her shoulder, and...Read more of this...

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