Famous Spade Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Bereaved of all I went abroad --

by Emily Dickinson
 Bereaved of all, I went abroad --
No less bereaved was I
Upon a New Peninsula --
The Grave preceded me --

Obtained my Lodgings, ere myself --
And when I sought my Bed --
The Grave it was reposed upon
The Pillow for my Head --

I waked to find it first awake --
I rose -- It followed me --
I tried to drop it in the...Read more of this...

The Grey Rock

by William Butler Yeats
 Poets with whom I learned my trade.
Companions of the Cheshire Cheese,
Here's an old story I've remade,
Imagining 'twould better please
Your cars than stories now in fashion,
Though you may think I waste my breath
Pretending that there can be passion
That has more life in it than death,
And though at bottling of your wine
Old wholesome Goban had no say;
The moral's yours because it's...Read more of this...

Sappers

by Rudyard Kipling
 When the Waters were dried an' the Earth did appear,
 ("It's all one," says the Sapper),
The Lord He created the Engineer,
 Her Majesty's Royal Engineer,
 With the rank and pay of a Sapper!

When the Flood come along for an extra monsoon,
'Twas Noah constructed the first pontoon
 To the plans of Her Majesty's, etc.

But after fatigue in the wet an'...Read more of this...

The Planting of the Apple-Tree

by William Cullen Bryant
COME let us plant the apple-tree. 
Cleave the tough greensward with the spade; 
Wide let its hollow bed be made; 
There gently lay the roots and there 
Sift the dark mould with kindly care 5 
And press it o'er them tenderly  
As round the sleeping infant's feet  
We softly fold the cradle sheet; 
So plant we the apple-tree....Read more of this...

reflections of caernarvon

by Rg Gregory
 i
i shall die yearning

a hand
reaching out to
a face that isn't there

a face
seeking a hand

a stone
leaving its mountain-
wall in a wind
anxious to be a bird

a bird
crying to be a wall

ii
north wales

the goat pisses
the hawk hangs
the mountain leans forward out of the mist

iii
on this hill

between the stone wind
and the wall of stones
i am a hollow
scooped out by the sun
my substance dropped
over...Read more of this...

Musketaquid

by Ralph Waldo Emerson
 Because I was content with these poor fields, 
Low, open meads, slender and sluggish streams, 
And found a home in haunts which others scorned, 
The partial wood-gods overpaid my love, 
And granted me the freedom of their state, 
And in their secret senate have prevailed 
With the dear, dangerous lords that rule our life, 
Made moon and planets parties...Read more of this...

The North Star Whispers to the Blacksmiths Son

by Vachel Lindsay
 THE North Star whispers: "You are one 
Of those whose course no chance can change. 
You blunder, but are not undone, 
Your spirit-task is fixed and strange. 

"When here you walk, a bloodless shade, 
A singer all men else forget. 
Your chants of hammer, forge and spade 
Will move the prarie-village yet. 

"That young, stiff-necked, reviling town 
Beholds your...Read more of this...

Song

by William Blake
MY silks and fine array  
My smiles and languish'd air  
By Love are driven away; 
And mournful lean Despair 
Brings me yew to deck my grave: 5 
Such end true lovers have. 

His face is fair as heaven 
When springing buds unfold: 
O why to him was 't given  
Whose heart is wintry cold? 10 
His breast...Read more of this...

Fit the Fourth ( Hunting of the Snark )

by Lewis Carroll
 The Hunting 


The Bellman looked uffish, and wrinkled his brow.
"If only you'd spoken before!
It's excessively awkward to mention it now,
With the Snark, so to speak, at the door! 
"We should all of us grieve, as you well may believe,
If you never were met with again--
But surely, my man, when the voyage began,
You might have suggested it then? 

"It's excessively...Read more of this...

Sleep Peacefully

by Alfonsina Storni
 You said the word that enamors
My hearing. You already forgot. Good.
Sleep peacefully. Your face should
Be serene and beautiful at all hours.

When the seductive mouth enchants
It should be fresh, your speech pleasant;
For your office as lover it's not good
That many tears come from your face.

More glorious destinies reclaim you
That were brought, between the black wells
Of the dark circles beneath your...Read more of this...

The Death And Burial Of Poor Cock Robin

by Mother Goose
Who killed Cock Robin?
"I," said the sparrow,
"With my little bow and arrow,
I killed Cock Robin."

Who saw him die?
"I," said the fly,
"With my little eye,
I saw him die."

Who caught his blood?
"I," said the fish,
"With my little dish,
I caught his blood."

Who'll make his shroud?
"I," said the beetle,
"With my thread and needle.
I'll make his shroud."

Who'll carry the torch?
"I," said the linnet,
"I'll come in...Read more of this...

The True Encounter

by Edna St. Vincent Millay
 "Wolf!" cried my cunning heart
At every sheep it spied,
And roused the countryside.

"Wolf! Wolf!"—and up would start
Good neighbours, bringing spade
And pitchfork to my aid.

At length my cry was known:
Therein lay my release.
I met the wolf alone
And was devoured in peace....Read more of this...

At the Sea-Side

by Robert Louis Stevenson
 When I was down beside the sea 
A wooden spade they gave to me 
To dig the sandy shore. 

My holes were empty like a cup. 
In every hole the sea came up, 
Till it could come no more....Read more of this...

Digging

by Seamus Heaney
 Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pin rest; snug as a gun.

Under my window, a clean rasping sound
When the spade sinks into gravelly ground:
My father, digging. I look down

Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds
Bends low, comes up twenty years away
Stooping in rhythm through potato drills
Where he was digging.

The coarse boot nestled on the lug, the shaft
Against the...Read more of this...

The Last Trump

by Andrew Barton Paterson
 "You led the trump," the old man said 
With fury in his eye, 
"And yet you hope my girl to wed! 
Young man! your hopes of love are fled, 
'Twere better she should die! 
"My sweet young daughter sitting there, 
So innocent and plump! 
You don't suppose that she would care 
To wed an outlawed man who'd dare 
To...Read more of this...

The Hemp

by Stephen Vincent Benet
 (A Virginia Legend.) 

The Planting of the Hemp.

Captain Hawk scourged clean the seas 
(Black is the gap below the plank) 
From the Great North Bank to the Caribbees 
(Down by the marsh the hemp grows rank). 

His fear was on the seaport towns, 
The weight of his hand held hard the downs. 
And the merchants cursed him, bitter and...Read more of this...

The Deserted Garden

by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
I MIND me in the days departed, 
How often underneath the sun 
With childish bounds I used to run 
To a garden long deserted. 

The beds and walks were vanish'd quite; 5 
And wheresoe'er had struck the spade, 
The greenest grasses Nature laid, 
To sanctify her right. 

I call'd the place my wilderness, 
For no one enter'd there but I....Read more of this...

The Fight at Eureka Stockade

by Henry Lawson
 "Was I at Eureka?" His figure was drawn to a youthful height,
And a flood of proud recollections made the fire in his grey eyes bright;
With pleasure they lighted and glisten'd, tho' the digger was grizzled and old,
And we gathered about him and listen'd while the tale of Eureka he told.

"Ah, those were the days," said the digger, "twas a...Read more of this...

I never told the buried gold

by Emily Dickinson
 I never told the buried gold
Upon the hill -- that lies --
I saw the sun -- his plunder done
Crouch low to guard his prize.

He stood as near
As stood you here --
A pace had been between --
Did but a snake bisect the brake
My life had forfeit been.

That was a wondrous booty --
I hope 'twas honest gained.
Those were the fairest ingots
That...Read more of this...

In The Baggage Room At Greyhound

by Allen Ginsberg
 I

In the depths of the Greyhound Terminal 
sitting dumbly on a baggage truck looking at the sky 
 waiting for the Los Angeles Express to depart 
worrying about eternity over the Post Office roof in 
 the night-time red downtown heaven 
staring through my eyeglasses I realized shuddering 
 these thoughts were not eternity, nor the poverty 
 of...Read more of this...

Scars on Paper

by Marilyn Hacker
 An unwrapped icon, too potent to touch,
she freed my breasts from the camp Empire dress.
Now one of them's the shadow of a breast
with a lost object's half-life, with as much
life as an anecdotal photograph:
me, Kim and Iva, all stripped to the waist,
hiking near Russian River on June first
'79: Iva's five-and-a-half.
While she was almost twenty, wearing black
T-shirts in D.C., where...Read more of this...

Françoise And The Fruit Farmer

by James A Emanuel
 In town to sell his fruit, he saw her—
Françoise in her summer slacks—
turning to him, coming back
to feel the swelling plums,
one held in each soft hand, breast-high,
above them her eyes enclosing him
in quietness brushed up to colors,
urgings green, thrustings yellow.

A vine-like touch, her promise seemed all profit,
surplus to lay aside and store,
quick harvest if he collapsed his stand,
pulled down...Read more of this...

The Sycamores

by John Greenleaf Whittier
 In the outskirts of the village 
On the river's winding shores 
Stand the Occidental plane-trees, 
Stand the ancient sycamores. 

One long century hath been numbered, 
And another half-way told 
Since the rustic Irish gleeman 
Broke for them the virgin mould. 

Deftly set to Celtic music 
At his violin's sound they grew, 
Through the moonlit eves of summer, 
Making Amphion's...Read more of this...

Off the Turnpike

by Amy Lowell
 Good ev'nin', Mis' Priest.
I jest stepped in to tell you Good-bye.
Yes, it's all over.
All my things is packed
An' every last one o' them boxes
Is on Bradley's team
Bein' hauled over to th' depot.
No, I ain't goin' back agin.
I'm stoppin' over to French's fer to-night,
And goin' down first train in th' mornin'.
Yes, it do seem kinder *****
Not to be goin' to...Read more of this...

All these my banners be

by Emily Dickinson
 All these my banners be.
I sow my pageantry
In May --
It rises train by train --
Then sleeps in state again --
My chancel -- all the plain
Today.

To lose -- if one can find again --
To miss -- if one shall meet --
The Burglar cannot rob -- then --
The Broker cannot cheat.
So build the hillocks gaily
Thou little spade of mine
Leaving nooks for...Read more of this...

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