Short Poetry by Popular Famous Poets

 Poet
1 William Wordsworth
2 William Shakespeare
3 Oscar Wilde
4 Emily Dickinson
5 Rabindranath Tagore
6 Maya Angelou
7 Robert Frost
8 Langston Hughes
9 Walt Whitman
10 Shel Silverstein
11 William Blake
12 Pablo Neruda
13 Rudyard Kipling
14 Sylvia Plath
15 William Butler Yeats
16 Alfred Lord Tennyson
17 Tupac Shakur
18 Edward Estlin (E E) Cummings
19 Charles Bukowski
20 Sarojini Naidu
21 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
22 Muhammad Ali
23 Christina Rossetti
24 Billy Collins
25 Alice Walker
26 Sandra Cisneros
27 Ogden Nash
28 Carol Ann Duffy
29 John Donne
30 Edgar Allan Poe
31 Ralph Waldo Emerson
32 Raymond Carver
33 Nikki Giovanni
34 John Keats
35 Lewis Carroll
36 Spike Milligan
37 Thomas Hardy
38 Thunchaththu Ramanujan Ezhuthachan
39 Mark Twain
40 Carl Sandburg
41 Percy Bysshe Shelley
42 Anne Sexton
43 Alexander Pushkin
44 Henry David Thoreau
45 Roger McGough
46 Sara Teasdale
47 Wendell Berry
48 Elizabeth Barrett Browning
49 Victor Hugo
50 George (Lord) Byron

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Famous Short Innocence Poems

Famous Short Innocence Poems. Short Innocence Poetry by Famous Poets. A collection of the all-time best Innocence short poems

Other Short Poem Pages


Poems are below...


Innocence | Short Famous Poems and Poets

 
by Siegfried Sassoon

A Childs Prayer

 For Morn, my dome of blue, 
For Meadows, green and gay, 
And Birds who love the twilight of the leaves, 
Let Jesus keep me joyful when I pray.
For the big Bees that hum And hide in bells of flowers; For the winding roads that come To Evening’s holy door, May Jesus bring me grateful to his arms, And guard my innocence for evermore.


by Denise Levertov

In Mind

 There's in my mind a woman
of innocence, unadorned but

fair-featured and smelling of
apples or grass.
She wears a utopian smock or shift, her hair is light brown and smooth, and she is kind and very clean without ostentation- but she has no imagination And there's a turbulent moon-ridden girl or old woman, or both, dressed in opals and rags, feathers and torn taffeta, who knows strange songs but she is not kind.


by R S Thomas

The Dance

 She is young.
Have I the right Even to name her? Child, It is not love I offer Your quick limbs, your eyes; Only the barren homage Of an old man whom time Crucifies.
Take my hand A moment in the dance, Ignoring its sly pressure, The dry rut of age, And lead me under the boughs Of innocence.
Let me smell My youth again in your hair.


by Elinor Wylie

Love Song

 Lovers eminent in love 
Ever diversities combine; 
The vocal chords of the cushat-dove, 
The snake's articulated spine.
Such elective elements Educate the eye and lip With one's refreshing innocence, The other's claim to scholarship.
The serpent's knowledge of the world Learn, and the dove's more naïve charm; Whether your ringlets should be curled, And why he likes his claret warm.


by Howard Nemerov

A Life

 Innocence? 
In a sense.
In no sense! Was that it? Was that it? Was that it? That was it.


by Robert Creeley

The Innocence

 Looking to the sea, it is a line
of unbroken mountains.
It is the sky.
It is the ground.
There we live it, on it.
It is a mist now tangent to another quiet.
Here the leaves come, there is the rock in evidence or evidence.
What I come to do is partial, partially kept.


by Emily Dickinson

Whose Pink career may have a close

 Whose Pink career may have a close
Portentous as our own, who knows?
To imitate these Neighbors fleet
In awe and innocence, were meet.


by Anne Kingsmill Finch

TO DEATH

 Thou bidst me come away,
And I'll no longer stay,
Than for to shed some tears
For faults of former years;
And to repent some crimes
Done in the present times;
And next, to take a bit
Of bread, and wine with it;
To don my robes of love,
Fit for the place above;
To gird my loins about
With charity throughout;
And so to travel hence
With feet of innocence;
These done, I'll only cry,
'God, mercy!' and so die.


by Robert Herrick

TO ANTHEA

 Anthea, I am going hence
With some small stock of innocence;
But yet those blessed gates I see
Withstanding entrance unto me;
To pray for me do thou begin;--
The porter then will let me in.


by Robert Herrick

MATINS OR MORNING PRAYER

 When with the virgin morning thou dost rise,
Crossing thyself come thus to sacrifice;
First wash thy heart in innocence; then bring
Pure hands, pure habits, pure, pure every thing.
Next to the altar humbly kneel, and thence Give up thy soul in clouds of frankincense.
Thy golden censers fill'd with odours sweet Shall make thy actions with their ends to meet.