Famous Sixth Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Roast Leviathan

by Louis Untermeyer
"Old Jews!" Well, David, aren't we?
What news is that to make you see so red,
To swear and almost tear your beard in half?
Jeered at? Well, let them laugh.
You can laugh longer when you're dead.
What? Are you still too blind to see?
Have you forgot your Midrash!... They were right,
The little goyim, with their angry stones.
You should be buried in the desert...Read more of this...

The Twelve Days Of Christmas

by Anonymous
The first day of Christmas,
My true love sent to me
A partridge in a pear tree.

The second day of Christmas,
My true love sent to me
Two turtle doves, and
A partridge in a pear tree.

The third day of Christmas,
My true love sent to me
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves, and
A partridge in a pear tree.

The fourth day of Christmas,
My true love sent to me
Four...Read more of this...

The Height of the Ridiculous

by Oliver Wendell Holmes
 I WROTE some lines once on a time 
In wondrous merry mood, 
And thought, as usual, men would say
They were exceeding good.

They were so *****, so very *****, 
I laughed as I would die;
Albeit, in the general way, 
A sober man am I.

I called my servant, and he came;
How kind it was of him 
To mind a slender man...Read more of this...

A Satyre Against Mankind

by John Wilmot
 Were I - who to my cost already am
One of those strange, prodigious creatures, man -
A spirit free to choose for my own share
What sort of flesh and blood I pleased to wear,
I'd be a dog, a monkey, or a bear,
Or anything but that vain animal,
Who is so proud of being rational.

His senses are too gross; and he'll contrive
A...Read more of this...

On a Young Ladys Sixth Anniversary

by Katherine Mansfield
 Baby Babbles--only one,
Now to sit up has begun.

Little Babbles quite turned two
Walks as well as I and you.

And Miss Babbles one, two, three,
Has a teaspoon at her tea.

But her Highness at four
Learns to open the front door.

And her Majesty--now six,
Can her shoestrings neatly fix.

Babbles, babbles, have a care,
You will soon put up your hair!...Read more of this...

Spring

by John Gould Fletcher
 At the first hour, it was as if one said, "Arise." 
At the second hour, it was as if one said, "Go forth." 
And the winter constellations that are like patient ox-eyes 
Sank below the white horizon at the north. 

At the third hour, it was as if one said, "I thirst"; 
At the fourth hour, all the earth...Read more of this...

De Erotio Puella

by Robert Louis Stevenson
 THIS girl was sweeter than the song of swans,
And daintier than the lamb upon the lawns
Or Curine oyster. She, the flower of girls,
Outshone the light of Erythraean pearls;
The teeth of India that with polish glow,
The untouched lilies or the morning snow.
Her tresses did gold-dust outshine
And fair hair of women of the Rhine.
Compared to her the peacock seemed not fair,
The...Read more of this...

The Horses

by Edwin Muir
 Barely a twelvemonth after
The seven days war that put the world to sleep,
Late in the evening the strange horses came.
By then we had made our covenant with silence,
But in the first few days it was so still
We listened to our breathing and were afraid.
On the second day
The radios failed; we turned the knobs; no answer.
On the third day a...Read more of this...

Anniversary Song

by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
 [This little song describes the different members 
of the party just spoken of.]

WHY pacest thou, my neighbour fair,

The garden all alone?
If house and land thou seek'st to guard,

I'd thee as mistress own.

My brother sought the cellar-maid,

And suffered her no rest;
She gave him a refreshing draught,

A kiss, too, she impress'd.

My cousin is a prudent wight,

The cook's by him ador'd;
He turns...Read more of this...

The Seven Sages

by William Butler Yeats
 The First. My great-grandfather spoke to Edmund Burke
 In Grattan's house.
The Second. My great-grandfather shared
 A pot-house bench with Oliver Goldsmith once.
The Third. My great-grandfather's father talked of music,
 Drank tar-water with the Bishop of Cloyne.
The Fourth. But mine saw Stella once.
The Fifth. Whence came our thought?
The Sixth. From four great minds that hated Whiggery.
The Fifth. Burke was a...Read more of this...

Regarding Art

by Nazim Hikmet
 Sometimes, I, too, tell the ah's
of my heart one by one
like the blood-red beads
of a ruby rosary strung
 on strands of golden hair!

But my
poetry's muse
takes to the air
on wings made of steel
like the I-beams
 of my suspension bridges!

I don't pretend
 the nightingale's lament
to the rose isn't easy on the ears...
But the language
 that really speaks to me
are Beethoven sonatas...Read more of this...

Man Listening To Disc

by Billy Collins
 This is not bad --
ambling along 44th Street
with Sonny Rollins for company,
his music flowing through the soft calipers
of these earphones,

as if he were right beside me
on this clear day in March,
the pavement sparkling with sunlight,
pigeons fluttering off the curb,
nodding over a profusion of bread crumbs.

In fact, I would say
my delight at being suffused
with phrases from his saxophone --
some like...Read more of this...

Fit the Sixth ( Hunting of the Snark )

by Lewis Carroll
 The Barrister's Dream 

They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;
They pursued it with forks and hope; 
They threatened its life with a railway-share; 
They charmed it with smiles and soap. 
But the Barrister, weary of proving in vain
That the Beaver's lace-making was wrong, 
Fell asleep, and in dreams saw the creature quite plain
That his fancy had...Read more of this...

May 8

by David Lehman
 700 francs will get you $109.91
on this muggy May afternoon
which is good to know since
I just found 700 francs in my wallet
while Dinah Washington was singing
"My Old Flame" I was thinking of where
I was with Glen when Allen Ginsberg died
and if I could relax for one hour
if I knew what that felt like
it would seem like a very long...Read more of this...

welsh experience

by Rg Gregory
 called out by the sun
this easter saturday morning
i'm sitting on a bank
in pistyllgwyn
(house of the sacred spring)
against a tall oak
(close to a daffodil-clump)
overlooking the road
between brechfa and abergorlech
on the west side of the valley
of the afon cothi
reading a poem by taliesin
from the sixth century
(the first poem in the oxford book
of welsh poetry in english)
which begins
  there was a...Read more of this...

All the Worlds a Stage

by William Shakespeare
 All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like...Read more of this...

Against Writing about Children

by Erin Belieu
 When I think of the many people
who privately despise children,
I can't say I'm completely shocked,

having been one. I was not
exceptional, uncomfortable as that is
to admit, and most children are not

exceptional. The particulars of
cruelty, sizes Large and X-Large,
memory gnawing it like

a fat dog, are ordinary: Mean Miss
Smigelsky from the sixth grade;
the orthodontist who

slapped you for crying out. Children
frighten us, other...Read more of this...

Sonnet LXIII

by Francesco Petrarch
[Pg 293] SONNET LXIII. Tornami a mente, anzi v' è dentro quella. SHE IS SO FIXED IN HIS HEART THAT AT TIMES HE BELIEVES HER STILL ALIVE, AND IS FORCED TO RECALL THE DATE OF HER DEATH.  Oh! to my soul for ever she returns;Or rather Lethe could not blot her...Read more of this...

The Trumpets Of The Mind

by Victor Hugo
 ("Sonnez, clairons de la pensée!") 
 
 {Bk. VII. i., March 19, 1853.} 


 Sound, sound for ever, Clarions of Thought! 
 
 When Joshua 'gainst the high-walled city fought, 
 He marched around it with his banner high, 
 His troops in serried order following nigh, 
 But not a sword was drawn, no shaft outsprang, 
 Only...Read more of this...

The Hero of Rorkes Drift

by William Topaz McGonagall
 Twas at the camp of Rorke's Drift, and at tea-time,
And busily engaged in culinary operations was a private of the line;
But suddenly he paused, for he heard a clattering din,
When instantly two men on horseback drew rein beside him. 

"News from the front!" said one, "Awful news!" said the other,
"Of which, we are afraid, will put us to great...Read more of this...

The God And The Bayadere

by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
 AN INDIAN LEGEND.

[This very fine Ballad was also first given in the Horen.]
(MAHADEVA is one of the numerous names of Seeva, the destroyer,--
the great god of the Brahmins.)


MAHADEVA,* Lord of earth

For the sixth time comes below,

As a man of mortal birth,--

Like him, feeling joy and woe.

Hither loves he to repair,

And his power behind to leave;

If to punish or to...Read more of this...

Sonnet CLXXVI

by Francesco Petrarch
SONNET CLXXVI. Voglia mi sprona; Amor mi guida e scorge. HE DESCRIBES HIS STATE, SPECIFYING THE DATE OF HIS ATTACHMENT.  Passion impels me, Love escorts and leads,Pleasure attracts me, habits old enchain,Hope with its flatteries comforts me again,And, at my harass'd heart, with fond touch pleads.Poor wretch! it trusts her still,...Read more of this...

On This Day I Complete My Thirty-Sixth Year

by George (Lord) Byron
 Missolonghi, Jan. 22, 1824

'Tis time this heart should be unmoved,
Since others it hath ceased to move:
Yet, though I cannot be beloved,
Still let me love!

My days are in the yellow leaf;
The flowers and fruits of love are gone;
The worm, the canker, and the grief,
Are mine alone!

The fire that on my bosom preys
Is lone as some volcanic isle;
No torch is kindled...Read more of this...

Niobe in Distress

by Phillis Wheatley
 Apollo's wrath to man the dreadful spring
Of ills innum'rous, tuneful goddess, sing!
Thou who did'st first th' ideal pencil give,
And taught'st the painter in his works to live,
Inspire with glowing energy of thought,
What Wilson painted, and what Ovid wrote.
Muse! lend thy aid, nor let me sue in vain,
Tho' last and meanest of the rhyming train!
O guide my pen in lofty...Read more of this...

Pi

by Wislawa Szymborska
 The admirable number pi: 
three point one four one. 
All the following digits are also just a start, 
five nine two because it never ends. 
It can't be grasped, six five three five , at a glance, 
eight nine, by calculation, 
seven nine, through imagination, 
or even three two three eight in jest, or by comparison 
four six to...Read more of this...

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