Famous Softened Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Psalm 65 part 3

by Isaac Watts
 The blessings of the spring; or, God gives rain.
A Psalm for the husbandman.

Good is the Lord, the heav'nly King,
Who makes the earth his care;
Visits the pastures ev'ry spring,
And bids the grass appear.

The clouds, like rivers raised on high,
Pour out at thy command
Their wat'ry blessings from the sky,
To cheer the thirsty land.

The softened ridges of the field
Permit the corn to...Read more of this...

Two Wishes XI

by Kahlil Gibran
 In the silence of the night Death descended from God toward the earth. He hovered above a city and pierced the dwellings with his eyes. He say the spirits floating on wings of dreams, and the people who were surrendered to the Slumber. 

When the moon fell below the horizon and the city became black, Death walked silently among...Read more of this...

Girlhood

by Fannie Isabelle Sherrick
Girlhood, the dearest time of joy and love,
The sunny spring of gladness and of peace,
The time that joins its links with heaven above,
And all that's pure below; a running ease
Of careless thought beguiles the murmuring stream
Of girlish life, and as some sweet, vague dream,
The fleeting days go by; fair womanhood
Comes oft to lure the girlish feet away,
But by the brooklet...Read more of this...

Incident Of The French Camp

by Robert Browning
 I.

You know, we French stormed Ratisbon:
A mile or so away,
On a little mound, Napoleon
Stood on our storming-day;
With neck out-thrust, you fancy how,
Legs wide, arms locked behind,
As if to balance the prone brow
Oppressive with its mind.

II.

Just as perhaps he mused ``My plans
``That soar, to earth may fall,
``Let once my army-leader Lannes
``Waver at yonder wall,''---
Out 'twixt the battery-smokes there flew
A rider,...Read more of this...

Till the Friend pours his wine to glad my heart,

by Omar Khayyam
Till the Friend pours his wine to glad my heart,
No kisses to my face will heaven impart
They say, «Repent in time»; but how repent,
Ere Allah's grace hath softened my hard heart?...Read more of this...

Growing Old

by Matthew Arnold
 What is it to grow old?
Is it to lose the glory of the form,
The lustre of the eye?
Is it for beauty to forego her wreath?
Yes, but not for this alone.

Is it to feel our strength— 
Not our bloom only, but our strength—decay?
Is it to feel each limb
Grow stiffer, every function less exact,
Each nerve more weakly strung?

Yes, this, and more!...Read more of this...

Churchills Grave

by George (Lord) Byron
 I stood beside the grave of him who blazed
The comet of a season, and I saw
The humblest of all sepulchres, and gazed
With not the less of sorrow and of awe
On that neglected turf and quiet stone,
With name no clearer than the names unknown,
Which lay unread around it; and asked
The Gardener of that ground, why it might be
That for this...Read more of this...

At the Long Sault

by Lucy Maud Montgomery
 A prisoner under the stars I lie, 
With no friend near; 
To-morrow they lead me forth to die, 
The stake is ready, the torments set, 
They will pay in full their deadly debt; 
But I fear them not! Oh, none could fear 
Of those who stood by Daulac's side­
While he prayed and laughed and sang and fought 
In the...Read more of this...

The Complaint Of Ceres

by Friedrich von Schiller
 Does pleasant spring return once more?
Does earth her happy youth regain?
Sweet suns green hills are shining o'er;
Soft brooklets burst their icy chain:
Upon the blue translucent river
Laughs down an all-unclouded day,
The winged west winds gently quiver,
The buds are bursting from the spray;
While birds are blithe on every tree;
The Oread from the mountain-shore
Sighs, "Lo! thy flowers come back to thee--
Thy child,...Read more of this...

Pleasure

by Charlotte Bronte
 A Short Poem or Else Not Say I

True pleasure breathes not city air, 
Nor in Art's temples dwells, 
In palaces and towers where 
The voice of Grandeur dwells.

No! Seek it where high Nature holds 
Her court 'mid stately groves, 
Where she her majesty unfolds, 
And in fresh beauty moves;

Where thousand birds of sweetest song, 
The wildly rushing storm 
And...Read more of this...

Beatrice Cenci

by Fannie Isabelle Sherrick
O beautiful woman, too well we know
The terrible weight of thy woman's woe,
So great that the world, in its careless way,
Remembered thy beauty for more than a day.
In the name of the truth from thy brow is torn
The crown of redemption thou long hast worn,
And into the valley of sin thou art hurled
To be trampled anew by the feet of...Read more of this...

The Outlaw

by Robert William Service
 A wild and woeful race he ran
Of lust and sin by land and sea;
Until, abhorred of God and man,
They swung him from the gallows-tree.
And then he climbed the Starry Stair,
And dumb and naked and alone,
With head unbowed and brazen glare,
He stood before the Judgment Throne.

The Keeper of the Records spoke:
"This man, O Lord, has mocked Thy Name.
The weak have...Read more of this...

Softened by Times consummate plush

by Emily Dickinson
 Softened by Time's consummate plush,
How sleek the woe appears
That threatened childhood's citadel
And undermined the years.

Bisected now, by bleaker griefs,
We envy the despair
That devastated childhood's realm,
So easy to repair....Read more of this...

Elmer Karr

by Edgar Lee Masters
 What but the love of God could have softened
And made forgiving the people of Spoon River
Toward me who wronged the bed of Thomas Merritt
And murdered him beside?
Oh, loving hearts that took me in again
When I returned from fourteen years in prison!
Oh, helping hands that in the church received me,
And heard with tears my penitent confession,
Who took the sacrament of...Read more of this...

By A Swimming Pool Outside Syracusa

by Billy Collins
 All afternoon I have been struggling
to communicate in Italian
with Roberto and Giuseppe, who have begun
to resemble the two male characters
in my Italian for Beginners,
the ones who are always shopping
or inquiring about the times of trains,
and now I can hardly speak or write English.

I have made important pronouncements
in this remote limestone valley
with its trickle of a river,
stating that it seems...Read more of this...

The Bluebell

by Anne Bronte
 A fine and subtle spirit dwells
In every little flower,
Each one its own sweet feeling breathes
With more or less of power. 
There is a silent eloquence
In every wild bluebell
That fills my softened heart with bliss
That words could never tell.

Yet I recall not long ago
A bright and sunny day,
'Twas when I led a toilsome life
So many leagues away;

That day along a...Read more of this...

In the Jewish Synagogue at Newport

by Emma Lazarus
 Here, where the noises of the busy town, 
The ocean's plunge and roar can enter not,
We stand and gaze around with tearful awe,
And muse upon the consecrated spot.

No signs of life are here: the very prayers
Inscribed around are in a language dead;
The light of the "perpetual lamp" is spent
That an undying radiance was to shed.

What prayers were in this...Read more of this...

The Professional Wanderer

by Henry Lawson
 When you’ve knocked about the country—been away from home for years; 
When the past, by distance softened, nearly fills your eyes with tears— 
You are haunted oft, wherever or however you may roam, 
By a fancy that you ought to go and see the folks at home. 
You forget the family quarrels—little things that used to jar— 
And you...Read more of this...

The Bush Girl

by Henry Lawson
 So you rode from the range where your brothers “select,” 

Through the ghostly grey bush in the dawn--- 

You rode slowly at first, lest her heart should suspect 

That you were glad to be gone; 

You had scarcely the courage to glance back at her 

By the homestead receding from view, 

And you breathed with relief as you rounded...Read more of this...

Near But Far Away

by William Morris
 She wavered, stopped and turned, methought her eyes, 
The deep grey windows of her heart, were wet, 
Methought they softened with a new regret 
To note in mine unspoken miseries, 
And as a prayer from out my heart did rise 
And struggled on my lips in shame's strong net, 
She stayed me, and cried "Brother!" our lips met, 
Her...Read more of this...

A Sunbeam

by Fannie Isabelle Sherrick
The sun was hid all day by clouds,
  The rain fell softly down;
A cold gray mist hung o'er the earth,
  And veiled the silent town.
Behind the clouds a sunbeam crept
  With restless wings of gold;
The skies above were bright and warm,
  The earth below was cold.
It glanced along the heavy clouds,
  Then sought to glide...Read more of this...

Stanzas To Jessy

by George (Lord) Byron
 There is a mystic thread of life
So dearly wreath'd with mine alone,
That Destiny's relentless knife
At once must sever both, or none.

There is a Form on which these eyes
Have fondly gazed with such delight---
By day, that Form their joy supplies,
And Dreams restore it, through the night.

There is a Voice whose tones inspire
Such softened feelings in my breast,
I would not hear...Read more of this...

The Bluebell

by Anne Bronte
 A fine and subtle spirit dwells
In every little flower,
Each one its own sweet feeling breathes
With more or less of power. 
There is a silent eloquence
In every wild bluebell
That fills my softened heart with bliss
That words could never tell.

Yet I recall not long ago
A bright and sunny day,
'Twas when I led a toilsome life
So many leagues away;

That day along a...Read more of this...

The Iron Gate

by Oliver Wendell Holmes
 WHERE is this patriarch you are kindly greeting?
Not unfamiliar to my ear his name,
Nor yet unknown to many a joyous meeting
In days long vanished,-- is he still the same,

Or changed by years, forgotten and forgetting,
Dull-eared, dim-sighted, slow of speech and thought,
Still o'er the sad, degenerate present fretting,
Where all goes wrong, and nothing as it ought?

Old age, the graybeard! Well,...Read more of this...

On The Night Train

by Henry Lawson
 Have you seen the bush by moonlight, from the train, go running by? 
Blackened log and stump and sapling, ghostly trees all dead and dry; 
Here a patch of glassy water; there a glimpse of mystic sky? 
Have you heard the still voice calling – yet so warm, and yet so cold: 
"I'm the Mother-Bush that bore you! Come...Read more of this...

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