Short Poetry by Popular Famous Poets

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

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Famous Short Lonely Poems

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

Other Short Poem Pages


Poems are below...


Lonely | Short Famous Poems and Poets

 
by Sara Teasdale

Alone

 I am alone, in spite of love,
In spite of all I take and give—
In spite of all your tenderness,
Sometimes I am not glad to live.
I am alone, as though I stood On the highest peak of the tired gray world, About me only swirling snow, Above me, endless space unfurled; With earth hidden and heaven hidden, And only my own spirit's pride To keep me from the peace of those Who are not lonely, having died.


by Hilaire Belloc

The Frog

 Be kind and tender to the Frog,
And do not call him names,
As "Slimy skin," or "Polly-wog,"
Or likewise "Ugly James,"
Or "Gap-a-grin," or "Toad-gone-wrong,"
Or "Bill Bandy-knees":
The Frog is justly sensitive
To epithets like these.
No animal will more repay A treatment kind and fair; At least so lonely people say Who keep a frog (and, by the way, They are extremely rare).


by Emily Bronte

The Sun Has Set

 The sun has set, and the long grass now 
Waves dreamily in the evening wind; 
And the wild bird has flown from that old gray stone 
In some warm nook a couch to find.
In all the lonely landscape round I see no light and hear no sound, Except the wind that far away Come sighing o'er the healthy sea.


by Victor Hugo

AN AUTUMNAL SIMILE

 ("Les feuilles qui gisaient.") 


 The leaves that in the lonely walks were spread, 
 Starting from off the ground beneath the tread, 
 Coursed o'er the garden-plain; 
 Thus, sometimes, 'mid the soul's deep sorrowings, 
 Our soul a moment mounts on wounded wings, 
 Then, swiftly, falls again. 


 





by Edgar Allan Poe

To One Departed

 Seraph! thy memory is to me
Like some enchanted far-off isle
In some tumultuous sea -
Some ocean vexed as it may be
With storms; but where, meanwhile,
Serenest skies continually
Just o'er that one bright island smile.
For 'mid the earnest cares and woes That crowd around my earthly path, (Sad path, alas, where grows Not even one lonely rose!) My soul at least a solace hath In dreams of thee; and therein knows An Eden of bland repose.


by Hilaire Belloc

Frog The

 Be kind and tender to the Frog,
And do not call him names,
As "Slimy skin," or "Polly-wog,"
Or likewise "Ugly James,"
Or "Gap-a-grin," or "Toad-gone-wrong,"
Or "Bill Bandy-knees":
The Frog is justly sensitive
To epithets like these.
No animal will more repay A treatment kind and fair; At least so lonely people say Who keep a frog (and, by the way, They are extremely rare).


by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Autumn Within

 It is autumn; not without
But within me is the cold.
Youth and spring are all about; It is I that have grown old.
Birds are darting through the air, Singing, building without rest; Life is stirring everywhere, Save within my lonely breast.
There is silence: the dead leaves Fall and rustle and are still; Beats no flail upon the sheaves, Comes no murmur from the mill.


by Sara Teasdale

The Years

 To-night I close my eyes and see
A strange procession passing me --
The years before I saw your face
Go by me with a wistful grace;
They pass, the sensitive, shy years,
As one who strives to dance, half blind with tears.
The years went by and never knew That each one brought me nearer you; Their path was narrow and apart And yet it led me to your heart -- Oh, sensitive, shy years, oh, lonely years, That strove to sing with voices drowned in tears.


by Sara Teasdale

I Remembered

 There never was a mood of mine,
Gay or heart-broken, luminous or dull,
But you could ease me of its fever
And give it back to me more beutiful.
In many another soul I broke the bread, And drank the wine and played the happy guest, But I was lonely, I remembered you; The heart belong to him who knew it best.


by George (Lord) Byron

It Is the Hour

 It is the hour when from the boughs
The nightingale's high note is heard;
It is the hour -- when lover's vows
Seem sweet in every whisper'd word;
And gentle winds and waters near,
Make music to the lonely ear.
Each flower the dews have lightly wet, And in the sky the stars are met, And on the wave is deeper blue, And on the leaf a browner hue, And in the Heaven that clear obscure So softly dark, and darkly pure, That follows the decline of day As twilight melts beneath the moon away.


by William Henry Davies

The Villain

 While joy gave clouds the light of stars, 
That beamed wher'er they looked; 
And calves and lambs had tottering knees, 
Excited, while they sucked; 
While every bird enjoyed his song, 
Without one thought of harm or wrong-- 
I turned my head and saw the wind, 
Not far from where I stood, 
Dragging the corn by her golden hair, 
Into a dark and lonely wood.


by Lisa Zaran

The Blues Are All The Same

 ~for Jackson C.
Frank It seems almost too far fetched really, too difficult to believe.
This unassuming moon shining like a copper plate.
These milkcrate blues.
This soft trellis of sound wobbling through the wind as if pouring out from the window of some lonely house on the hill.
How beautiful it is, the ghost of your voice, haunting this empty valley.
Originally published in 2River View 10.
1, 2005 Copyright © Lisa Zaran, 2005


by John Montague

Blessing

 A feel of warmth in this place.
In winter air, a scent of harvest.
No form of prayer is needed, When by sudden grace attended.
Naturally, we fall from grace.
Mere humans, we forget what light Led us, lonely, to this place.


by Li Po

Alone Looking at the Mountain

 All the birds have flown up and gone;
A lonely cloud floats leisurely by.
We never tire of looking at each other - Only the mountain and I.


by Richard Wilbur

Having Misidentified A Wildflower

 A thrush, because I'd been wrong,
Burst rightly into song
In a world not vague, not lonely,
Not governed by me only.


by Alfred Lord Tennyson

The Eagle

 He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ring'd with the azure world, he stands.
The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls; He watches from his mountain walls, And like a thunderbolt he falls.


by Stephen Crane

In a lonely place

 In a lonely place,
I encountered a sage
Who sat, all still,
Regarding a newspaper.
He accosted me: "Sir, what is this?" Then I saw that I was greater, Aye, greater than this sage.
I answered him at once, "Old, old man, it is the wisdom of the age.
" The sage looked upon me with admiration.


by Sarojini Naidu

To My Fairy Fancies

 NAY, no longer I may hold you, 
In my spirit's soft caresses, 
Nor like lotus-leaves enfold you 
In the tangles of my tresses.
Fairy fancies, fly away To the white cloud-wildernesses, Fly away! Nay, no longer ye may linger With your laughter-lighted faces, Now I am a thought-worn singer In life's high and lonely places.
Fairy fancies, fly away, To bright wind-inwoven spaces, Fly away!


by Erica Jong

The Poet Fears Failure

 The poet fears failure
& so she says
"Hold on pen--
what if the critics
hate me?"
& with that question
she blots out more lines
than any critic could.
The critic is only doing his job: keeping the poet lonely.
He barks like a dog at the door when the master comes home.
It's in his doggy nature.
If he didn't know the poet for the boss, he wouldn't bark so loud.
& the poet? It's in her nature to fear failure but not to let that fear blot out her lines.


by Robert Louis Stevenson

At Last She Comes

 AT last she comes, O never more
In this dear patience of my pain
To leave me lonely as before,
Or leave my soul alone again.


by Hafez

All things born to break

All things born to break
In meek sacrifice
For another’s sake,

All man’s striving vain,
Lavish’d as the price
Of the heart’s hid pain—

Long, O spirit-bird,
Of thy lonely fear
Hast thou sung unheard

In hope’s moon-lit wood,
While no creature near
Knew nor understood.



by Thomas Hardy

I Look Into My Glass

 I look into my glass,
And view my wasting skin,
And say, "Would God it came to pass
My heart had shrunk as thin!"

For then, I, undistrest
By hearts grown cold to me,
Could lonely wait my endless rest
With equanimity.
But Time, to make me grieve, Part steals, lets part abide; And shakes this fragile frame at eve With throbbings of noontide.


by Dame Edith Sitwell

Bells Of Gray Crystal

 Bells of gray crystal
Break on each bough--
The swans' breath will mist all
The cold airs now.
Like tall pagodas Two people go, Trail their long codas Of talk through the snow.
Lonely are these And lonely and I .
.
.
.
The clouds, gray Chinese geese Sleek through the sky.


by Dejan Stojanovic

A New Friend

Tell me something less significant, 
Something about our biology, for instance, 
About what you hear while sitting under the tree, 
About lonely lions in the prairies; 
Forget decorated generals; 
Tell me about Private Ryan, 
Tell me something only you know
And make a new friend.


by Dame Edith Sitwell

Bells Of Gray Crystal

 Bells of gray crystal
Break on each bough--
The swans' breath will mist all
The cold airs now.
Like tall pagodas Two people go, Trail their long codas Of talk through the snow.
Lonely are these And lonely and I .
.
.
.
The clouds, gray Chinese geese Sleek through the sky.