Famous Rang Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Fern Hill

by Dylan Thomas
 Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs
About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green,
 The night above the dingle starry,
 Time let me hail and climb
 Golden in the heydays of his eyes,
And honoured among wagons I was prince of the apple towns
And once below a time I lordly had the trees...Read more of this...

Ballad of the Goodly Fere

by Ezra Pound
 Simon Zelotes speaking after the Crucifixion.
Fere=Mate, Companion.

Ha' we lost the goodliest fere o' all
For the priests and the gallows tree?
Aye lover he was of brawny men,
O' ships and the open sea.

When they came wi' a host to take Our Man
His smile was good to see,
"First let these go!" quo' our Goodly Fere,
"Or I'll see ye damned," says he.

Aye he...Read more of this...

Hiawathas photographing ( Part V )

by Lewis Carroll
 Last, the youngest son was taken:
Very rough and thick his hair was,
Very round and red his face was,
Very dusty was his jacket,
Very fidgety his manner.
And his overbearing sisters
Called him names he disapproved of:
Called him Johnny, 'Daddy's Darling,'
Called him Jacky, 'Scrubby School-boy.'
And, so awful was the picture,
In comparison the others
Seemed, to one's bewildered fancy,
To have partially succeeded.


Finally my Hiawatha
Tumbled all...Read more of this...

Mr Floods Party

by Edwin Arlington Robinson
 Old Eben Flood, climbing alone one night
Over the hill between the town below
And the forsaken upland hermitage
That held as much as he should ever know
On earth again of home, paused warily.
The road was his with not a native near;
And Eben, having leisure, said aloud,
For no man else in Tilbury Town to hear:

"Well, Mr. Flood, we have the harvest moon
Again,...Read more of this...

Marie Antoinette

by Robert William Service
 They told to Marie Antoinette:
 "The beggers at your gate
Have eyes too sad for tears to wet,
 And for your pity wait."
But Marie only laughed and said:
 "My heart they will not ache:
If people starve for want of bread
 Let them eat cake."

The Court re-echoed her bon mot;
 It rang around the land,
Till masses wakened from their woe
 With...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 Independent Man

by Gwendolyn Brooks
 Now who could take you off to tiny life 
In one room or in two rooms or in three 
And cork you smartly, like the flask of wine 
You are? Not any woman. Not a wife. 
You'd let her twirl you, give her a good glee 
Showing your leaping ruby to a friend. 
Though twirling would be meek. Since...Read more of this...

Summer Rain

by Amy Lowell
All night our room was outer-walled with rain.
Drops fell and flattened on the tin roof,
And rang like little disks of metal.
Ping!—Ping!—and there was not a pin-point of silence between
    them.
The rain rattled and clashed,
And the slats of the shutters danced and glittered.
But to me the darkness was red-gold and crocus-colored
With your brightness,
And the words you whispered to...Read more of this...

Athertons Gambit

by Edwin Arlington Robinson
 The Master played the bishop’s pawn, 
For jest, while Atherton looked on; 
The master played this way and that, 
And Atherton, amazed thereat, 
Said “Now I have a thing in view
That will enlighten one or two, 
And make a difference or so 
In what it is they do not know.” 

The morning stars together sang 
And forth a mighty...Read more of this...

Cloony The Clown

by Shel Silverstein
 I'll tell you the story of Cloony the Clown
Who worked in a circus that came through town.
His shoes were too big and his hat was too small,
But he just wasn't, just wasn't funny at all.
He had a trombone to play loud silly tunes,
He had a green dog and a thousand balloons.
He was floppy and sloppy and skinny and tall,
But...Read more of this...

Man the Man-Hunter

by Carl Sandburg
 I SAW Man, the man-hunter,
Hunting with a torch in one hand
And a kerosene can in the other,
Hunting with guns, ropes, shackles.

 I listened
 And the high cry rang,
The high cry of Man, the man-hunter:
We’ll get you yet, you sbxyzch!

 I listened later.
 The high cry rang:
Kill him! kill him! the sbxyzch!

In the morning the sun saw
Two butts of something,...Read more of this...

Little Queen

by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
 Do you remember the name I wore –
The old pet-name of Little Queen –
In the dear, dead days that are no more, 
The happiest days of our lives, I ween? 
For we loved with that passionate love of youth
That blesses but once with its perfect bliss, -
A love that, in spite of its trust and truth, 
Seems never to...Read more of this...

The Wine-Cup is Circling

by Thomas Moore
 The wine-cup is circling in Almhin's hall,
And its Chief, 'mid his heroes reclining, 
Looks up, with a sigh to the trophied wall, 
Where his sword hangs idly shining. 
When, hark, that shout 
From the vale without -- 
"Arm ye quick, the Dane, the Dane is nigh!" 
Every Chief starts up 
From his foaming cup, 
And "To battle, to battle!"...Read more of this...

On Kileys Run

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 The roving breezes come and go 
On Kiley's Run, 
The sleepy river murmurs low, 
And far away one dimly sees 
Beyond the stretch of forest trees -- 
Beyond the foothills dusk and dun -- 
The ranges sleeping in the sun 
On Kiley's Run. 

'Tis many years since first I came 
To Kiley's Run, 
More years than I would care...Read more of this...

Gignol

by Robert William Service
 Addict of Punch and Judy shows
 I was when I was small;
My kiddy laughter, I suppose,
 Rang louder than them all.
The Judge with banter I would bait,
 The Copper was a wretch;
But oh how I would hiss my hate
 For grim Jack Ketch.

Although a grandsire grey I still
 Love Punch and Judy shows,
And with my toddlers help to fill
...Read more of this...

Lovers Gifts LXX: Take Back Your Coins

by Rabindranath Tagore
 Take back your coins, King's Councillor. I am of those women you
sent to the forest shrine to decoy the young ascetic who had never
seen a women. I failed in your bidding.
Dimly day was breaking when the hermit boy came to bathe in
the stream, his tawny locks crowded on his shoulders, like a
cluster of morning clouds, and his limbs shining...Read more of this...

The Englishman In Italy

by Robert Browning
 (PIANO DI SORRENTO.)

Fortu, Frotu, my beloved one,
Sit here by my side,
On my knees put up both little feet!
I was sure, if I tried,
I could make you laugh spite of Scirocco;
Now, open your eyes— 
Let me keep you amused till he vanish
In black from the skies,
With telling my memories over
As you tell your beads;
All the memories plucked at Sorrento
—The flowers,...Read more of this...

The Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers

by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
 The breaking waves dashed high
On a stern and rock-bound coast,
And the woods, against a stormy sky,
Their giant branches tost;

And the heavy night hung dark
The hills and water o'er,
When a band of exiles moored their bark
On the wild New England shore.

Not as the conqueror comes,
They, the true-hearted, came;
Not with the roll of the stirring drums,
And the trumpet that sings of...Read more of this...

Among Those Killed In The Dawn Raid Was A Man Aged A Hundred

by Dylan Thomas
 When the morning was waking over the war
He put on his clothes and stepped out and he died,
The locks yawned loose and a blast blew them wide,
He dropped where he loved on the burst pavement stone
And the funeral grains of the slaughtered floor.
Tell his street on its back he stopped a sun
And the craters of his eyes grew springshots...Read more of this...

The wanderer

by Eugene Field
 Upon a mountain height, far from the sea,
I found a shell,
And to my listening ear the lonely thing
Ever a song of ocean seemed to sing,
Ever a tale of ocean seemed to tell.

How came the shell upon that mountain height?
Ah, who can say
Whether there dropped by some too careless hand,
Or whether there cast when Ocean swept the Land,
Ere the Eternal...Read more of this...

Stopping at Incense Storing Temple

by Wang Wei
 Not know incense store temple 
Few enter cloud peaks 
Ancient trees no person path 
Deep hills what place bell 
Spring sound choke sheer rock 
Sun colour cold green pines 
Dusk empty pool bend 
Peace meditation control fierce dragon 


I did not know the incense storing temple, 
I walked a few miles into the clouded peaks. 
No man on the...Read more of this...

The Scottish Engineer

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 With eyes that searched in the dark, 
Peering along the line, 
Stood the grim Scotsman, Hector Clark, 
Driver of "Forty-nine". 
And the veldt-fire flamed on the hills ahead, 
Like a blood-red beacon sign. 

There was word of a fight to the north, 
And a column too hardly pressed, 
So they started the Highlanders forth. 
Heedless of food or rest....Read more of this...

Coldness in Love

by D. H. Lawrence
And you remember, in the afternoon
The sea and the sky went grey, as if there had sunk
A flocculent dust on the floor of the world: the festoon
Of the sky sagged dusty as spider cloth,
And coldness clogged the sea, till it ceased to croon.

A dank, sickening scent came up from the grime
Of weed that blackened the shore, so that I recoiled
Feeling...Read more of this...

To The Sound Of Violins

by Barry Tebb
 Give me life at its most garish

Friday night in the Square, pink sequins dazzle

And dance on clubbers bare to the midriff

Young men in crisp shirts and pressed pants

‘Dress code smart’ gyrate to ‘Sex Bomb, Sex Bomb’

And sing along its lyrics to the throng of which I’m one

My shorts, shoulder bag and white beard

Making me stand out in the teeming...Read more of this...

I

by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
 I thought once how Theocritus had sung
Of the sweet years, the dear and wished-for years,
Who each one in a gracious hand appears
To bear a gift for mortals, old or young:
And, as I mused it in his antique tongue,
I saw, in gradual vision through my tears,
The sweet, sad years, the melancholy years,
Those of my own life, who by turns had...Read more of this...

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