Famous Sedate Poems by Famous Poets

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

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The Vain King

by Henry Van Dyke
 In robes of Tyrian blue the King was drest,
A jewelled collar shone upon his breast,
A giant ruby glittered in his crown -----
Lord of rich lands and many a splendid town.
In him the glories of an ancient line
Of sober kings, who ruled by right divine,
Were centred; and to him with loyal awe
The people looked for leadership and law.
Ten thousand knights,...Read more of this...

The Twilight Turns

by James Joyce
 The twilight turns from amethyst 
To deep and deeper blue, 
The lamp fills with a pale green glow 
The trees of the avenue. 

The old piano plays an air, 
Sedate and slow and gay; 
She bends upon the yellow keys, 
Her head inclines this way. 

Shy thought and grave wide eyes and hands 
That wander as they list --...Read more of this...

The Living Dead

by Robert William Service
 Since I have come to years sedate
I see with more and more acumen
The bitter irony of Fate,
The vanity of all things human.
Why, just to-day some fellow said,
As I surveyed Fame's outer portal:
"By gad! I thought that you were dead."
Poor me, who dreamed to be immortal!

But that's the way with many men
Whose name one fancied time-defying;
We thought that they were...Read more of this...

Sonet VI

by Robert Louis Stevenson
 As in the hostel by the bridge I sate,
Nailed with indifference fondly deemed complete,
And (O strange chance, more sorrowful than sweet)
The counterfeit of her that was my fate,
Dressed in like vesture, graceful and sedate,
Went quietly up the vacant village street,
The still small sound of her most dainty feet
Shook, like a trumpet blast, my soul's estate.
Instant revolt ran riot through...Read more of this...

As a bad orator, badly o'er-book-skilled,

by Fernando Pessoa
As a bad orator, badly o'er-book-skilled,

Doth overflow his purpose with made heat,

And, like a clock, winds with withoutness willed

What should have been an inner instinct's feat;

Or as a prose-wit, harshly poet turned,

Lacking the subtler music in his measure,

With useless care labours but to be spurned,

Courting in alien speech the Muse's pleasure;

I study how to love or how to hate,

Estranged by...Read more of this...

Nadowessian Death-Lament

by Friedrich von Schiller
 See, he sitteth on his mat
Sitteth there upright,
With the grace with which he sat
While he saw the light.

Where is now the sturdy gripe,--
Where the breath sedate,
That so lately whiffed the pipe
Toward the Spirit great?

Where the bright and falcon eye,
That the reindeer's tread
On the waving grass could spy,
Thick with dewdrops spread?

Where the limbs that used to dart
Swifter through the snow
Than...Read more of this...

The Retired Cat

by William Cowper
 A poet's cat, sedate and grave
As poet well could wish to have,
Was much addicted to inquire
For nooks to which she might retire,
And where, secure as mouse in chink,
She might repose, or sit and think.
I know not where she caught the trick--
Nature perhaps herself had cast her
In such a mould [lang f]philosophique[lang e],
Or else she learn'd it of her master.
Sometimes...Read more of this...

The Ballad Of A Bachelor

by Ellis Parker Butler
 Listen, ladies, while I sing
The ballad of John Henry King.

John Henry was a bachelor,
His age was thirty-three or four.

Two maids for his affection vied,
And each desired to be his bride,

And bravely did they strive to bring
Unto their feet John Henry King.

John Henry liked them both so well,
To save his life he could not tell

Which he most wished to be...Read more of this...

Dust is the only Secret

by Emily Dickinson
 Dust is the only Secret --
Death, the only One
You cannot find out all about
In his "native town."

Nobody know "his Father" --
Never was a Boy --
Hadn't any playmates,
Or "Early history" --

Industrious! Laconic!
Punctual! Sedate!
Bold as a Brigand!
Stiller than a Fleet!

Builds, like a Bird, too!
Christ robs the Nest --
Robin after Robin
Smuggled to Rest!...Read more of this...

The Break

by Anne Sexton
 It was also my violent heart that broke,
falling down the front hall stairs.
It was also a message I never spoke,
calling, riser after riser, who cares

about you, who cares, splintering up
the hip that was merely made of crystal,
the post of it and also the cup.
I exploded in the hallway like a pistol.

So I fell apart. So I came all undone.
Yes....Read more of this...

Kathleen

by Robert William Service
 It was the steamer Alice May that sailed the Yukon foam.
And touched in every river camp from Dawson down to Nome.
It was her builder, owner, pilot, Captain Silas Geer,
Who took her through the angry ice, the last boat of the year;
Who patched her cracks with gunny sacks and wound her pipes with wire,
And cut the spruce upon the banks...Read more of this...

Nature affects to be sedate

by Emily Dickinson
 Nature affects to be sedate
Upon occasion, grand
But let our observation shut
Her practices extend

To Necromancy and the Trades
Remote to understand
Behold our spacious Citizen
Unto a Juggler turned --...Read more of this...

Bien Loin Dici

by Charles Baudelaire
 HERE is the chamber consecrate, 
Wherein this maiden delicate, 
And enigmatically sedate, 

Fans herself while the moments creep, 
Upon her cushions half-asleep, 
And hears the fountains plash and weep. 

Dorothy's chamber undefiled. 
The winds and waters sing afar 
Their song of sighing strange and wild 
To lull to sleep the petted child. 

From head to foot with subtle care,...Read more of this...

The Maori Pig Market

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 In distant New Zealand, whose tresses of gold 
The billows are ceaselessly combing, 
Away in a village all tranquil and old 
I came on a market where porkers were sold -- 
A market for pigs in the gloaming. 
And Maoris in plenty in picturesque rig 
The lands of their forefathers roaming, 
Were weighing their swine, whether little or big,...Read more of this...

A Nocturnal Reverie

by Anne Kingsmill Finch
In such a night, when every louder wind
Is to its distant cavern safe confined;
And only gentle Zephyr fans his wings,
And lonely Philomel, still waking, sings;
Or from some tree, famed for the owl's delight,
She, hollowing clear, directs the wand'rer right:
In such a night, when passing clouds give place,
Or thinly veil the heav'ns' mysterious face;
When in some river, overhung with green,
The waving...Read more of this...

A Voice from the Town

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 I thought, in the days of the droving, 
Of steps I might hope to retrace, 
To be done with the bush and the roving 
And settle once more in my place. 
With a heart that was well nigh to breaking, 
In the long, lonely rides on the plain, 
I thought of the pleasure of taking 
The hand of a...Read more of this...

Astræ

by Ralph Waldo Emerson
 Himself it was who wrote
His rank, and quartered his own coat.
There is no king nor sovereign state
That can fix a hero's rate;
Each to all is venerable,
Cap-a-pie invulnerable,
Until he write, where all eyes rest,
Slave or master on his breast.

I saw men go up and down
In the country and the town,
With this prayer upon their neck,
"Judgment and a judge we seek."
Not...Read more of this...

The Homebody

by Dorothy Parker
 There still are kindly things for me to know,
Who am afraid to dream, afraid to feel-
This little chair of scrubbed and sturdy deal,
This easy book, this fire, sedate and slow.
And I shall stay with them, nor cry the woe
Of wounds across my breast that do not heal;
Nor wish that Beauty drew a duller steel,
Since I am sworn to meet...Read more of this...

Tears

by Walt Whitman
 TEARS! tears! tears! 
In the night, in solitude, tears; 
On the white shore dripping, dripping, suck’d in by the sand; 
Tears—not a star shining—all dark and desolate; 
Moist tears from the eyes of a muffled head:
—O who is that ghost?—that form in the dark, with tears? 
What shapeless lump is that, bent, crouch’d there on the sand? 
Streaming tears—sobbing...Read more of this...

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