Get Your Premium Membership

Famous Street Poems by Famous Poets

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

See also:

by Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth
...cted and shaded the doorway.
There in the tranquil evenings of summer, when brightly the sunset
Lighted the village street and gilded the vanes on the chimneys,
Matrons and maidens sat in snow-white caps and in kirtles
Scarlet and blue and green, with distaffs spinning the golden
Flax for the gossiping looms, whose noisy shuttles within doors
Mingled their sound with the whir of the wheels and the songs of the maidens,
Solemnly down the street came the parish priest, and ...Read more of this...



by Ginsberg, Allen
...e best minds of my generation destroyed by 
 madness, starving hysterical naked, 
dragging themselves through the ***** streets at dawn 
 looking for an angry fix, 
angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly 
 connection to the starry dynamo in the machin- 
 ery of night, 
who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat 
 up smoking in the supernatural darkness of 
 cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities 
 contemplating jazz, 
who bared their brai...Read more of this...

by Wilde, Oscar
...eir sower, these each day
Sees rife in England, and the gentle feet
Of Beauty tread no more the stones of each unlovely street.

What even Cromwell spared is desecrated
By weed and worm, left to the stormy play
Of wind and beating snow, or renovated
By more destructful hands: Time's worst decay
Will wreathe its ruins with some loveliness,
But these new Vandals can but make a rain-proof barrenness.

Where is that Art which bade the Angels sing
Through Lincoln's lofty c...Read more of this...

by Sexton, Anne
...e stars and faces. 
There is ketchup and guitars. 
There is the hand of a small child 
when you're crossing the street. 
There is the old man's last words: 
More light! More light! 
Ms. Dog wouldn't give them her buttocks. 
She wouldn't moon at them. 
Just at the killers of the dream. 
The bus boys of the soul. 
Or at death 
who wants to make her a mummy. 
And you too! 
Wants to stuf her in a cold shoe 
and then amputate the foot. 
And ...Read more of this...

by Pinsky, Robert
...my machine from Bob. He had a story
About two rabbis, one of them tall, one short,
One day while walking along the street together

They see the corpse of a Chinese man before them,
And Bob said, sorry, he forgot the rest.
Of course he thought that his joke was a dummy,

Impossible to tell--a dead-end challenge.
But here it is, as Elliot told it to me:
The dead man's widow came to the rabbis weeping,

Begging them, if they could, to resurrect him.
Shocked, th...Read more of this...



by Soto, Gary
...he came out pulling
At her gloves, face bright
With rouge. I smiled,
Touched her shoulder, and led
Her down the street, across
A used car lot and a line
Of newly planted trees,
Until we were breathing
Before a drugstore. We
Entered, the tiny bell
Bringing a saleslady
Down a narrow aisle of goods.
I turned to the candies
Tiered like bleachers,
And asked what she wanted -
Light in her eyes, a smile
Starting at the corners
Of her mouth. I fingere...Read more of this...

by Wilde, Oscar
...me's lean eagles flew
From Britain's isles to far Euphrates blue;
And of the peoples thou wast noble queen,
Till in thy streets the Goth and Hun were seen.
Discrowned by man, deserted by the sea,
Thou sleepest, rocked in lonely misery!
No longer now upon thy swelling tide,
Pine-forest-like, thy myriad galleys ride!
For where the brass-beaked ships were wont to float,
The weary shepherd pipes his mournful note;
And the white sheep are free to come and go
Where Adria's purp...Read more of this...

by Whitman, Walt
...orence; 
I belong in Moscow, Cracow, Warsaw—or northward in Christiania or Stockholm—or in Siberian
 Irkutsk—or in some street in Iceland; 
I descend upon all those cities, and rise from them again.

10
I see vapors exhaling from unexplored countries; 
I see the savage types, the bow and arrow, the poison’d splint, the fetish, and the obi. 

I see African and Asiatic towns; 
I see Algiers, Tripoli, Derne, Mogadore, Timbuctoo, Monrovia; 
I see the swarms of Pekin, Cant...Read more of this...

by Tennyson, Alfred Lord
...
A trifle makes a dream, a trifle breaks.' 

`No trifle,' groan'd the husband; `yesterday
I met him suddenly in the street, and ask'd
That which I ask'd the woman in my dream.
Like her, he shook his head. "Show me the books!"
He dodged me with a long and loose account.
"The books, the books!" but he, he could not wait,
Bound on a matter he of life and death:
When the great Books (see Daniel seven and ten)
Were open'd, I should find he meant me well;
And then b...Read more of this...

by Chesterton, G K
...armour grey,
He rent and cast it at her feet:
Where, after centuries, with slow feet,
Men came from hall and school and street
And found it where it lay.

"Mother of God," the wanderer said,
"I am but a common king,
Nor will I ask what saints may ask,
To see a secret thing.

"The gates of heaven are fearful gates
Worse than the gates of hell;
Not I would break the splendours barred
Or seek to know the thing they guard,
Which is too good to tell.

"But for this ear...Read more of this...

by Masefield, John
...missus, so I didn't, 
Whether I mid do or I midn't, 
Until she'd promised we should meet 
Next evening, six, at top of street, 
When we could have a quiet talk 
On that low wall up Worcester Walk. 
And while we whispered there together 
I give her silver for a feather 
And felt a drunkenness like wine 
And shut out Christ in husks and swine. 
I felt the dart strike through my liver. 
God punish me for't and forgive her. 

Each one could be a Jesus mild, 
Each...Read more of this...

by Tennyson, Alfred Lord
...So strange, and rich, and dim; for where the roofs 
Tottered toward each other in the sky, 
Met foreheads all along the street of those 
Who watched us pass; and lower, and where the long 
Rich galleries, lady-laden, weighed the necks 
Of dragons clinging to the crazy walls, 
Thicker than drops from thunder, showers of flowers 
Fell as we past; and men and boys astride 
On wyvern, lion, dragon, griffin, swan, 
At all the corners, named us each by name, 
Calling, "God speed!" ...Read more of this...

by Scott, Sir Walter
...om!
     But hark! what blithe and jolly peal
     Makes the Franciscan steeple reel?
     And see! upon the crowded street,
     In motley groups what masquers meet!
     Banner and pageant, pipe and drum,
     And merry morrice-dancers come.
     I guess, by all this quaint array,
     The burghers hold their sports to-day.
     James will be there; he loves such show,
     Where the good yeoman bends his bow,
     And the tough wrestler foils his foe,
     As w...Read more of this...

by Lowell, Amy
...nd no solace
Could balm his hurt till unconsciousness
Stifled him and his great distress.

One morning he threw the street door wide
On coming in, and his vigorous stride
Made the tools on his table rattle and jump.
In his hands he carried a new-burst clump
Of laurel blossoms, whose smooth-barked stalks
Were pliant with sap. As a husband talks
To the wife he left an hour ago,
Paul spoke to the Shadow. "Dear, you know
To-day the calendar calls it Spring,
And I ...Read more of this...

by Carroll, Lewis
...calm succeeded to the fuss,
As when the loaded omnibus
Has reached the railway terminus: 

When, for the tumult of the street,
Is heard the engine's stifled beat,
The velvet tread of porters' feet. 

With glance that ever sought the ground,
She moved her lips without a sound,
And every now and then she frowned. 

He gazed upon the sleeping sea,
And joyed in its tranquillity,
And in that silence dead, but she 

To muse a little space did seem,
Then, like the echo of a...Read more of this...

by Eliot, T S (Thomas Stearns)
...and infrequent, were exhaled,
And each man fixed his eyes before his feet.
Flowed up the hill and down King William Street,
To where Saint Mary Woolnoth kept the hours
With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine.
There I saw one I knew, and stopped him, crying "Stetson!
"You who were with me in the ships at Mylae! 
"That corpse you planted last year in your garden,
"Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year?
"Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed?
"Oh keep...Read more of this...

by Miller, Alice Duer
...later, I remember when
One evening I overheard two men
In Claridge's— white waistcoats, coats I know
Were built in Bond Street or in Savile Row—
So calm, so confident, so finely bred—
Young gods in tails— and this is what they said:
'Not your first visit to the States?' 'Oh no,
I'd been to Canada two years ago.'
Good God, I thought, have they not heard that we
Were those ***** colonists who would be free,
Who took our desperate chance, and fought and won
Under a colonist ...Read more of this...

by Shelley, Percy Bysshe
...visions from her presence sweet,--
Through fane and palace-court, and labyrinth mined
With many a dark and subterranean street
Under the Nile; through chambers high and deep
She passed, observing mortals in their sleep.

A pleasure sweet doubtless it was to see
Mortals subdued in all the shapes of sleep.
Here lay two sister-twins in infancy;
There a lone youth who in his dreams did weep;
Within, two lovers linked innocently
In their loose locks which over both did cre...Read more of this...

by Plath, Sylvia
...ins, what sorrows must I be mothering?

Can such innocence kill and kill? It milks my life.
The trees wither in the street. The rain is corrosive.
I taste it on my tongue, and the workable horrors,
The horrors that stand and idle, the slighted godmothers
With their hearts that tick and tick, with their satchels of instruments.
I shall be a wall and a roof, protecting.
I shall be a sky and a hill of good: O let me be!

A power is growing on me, an old tenac...Read more of this...

by Akhmatova, Anna
...ound..
How sweet it would be with you underground!



x x x
The muse has left along narrow
And winding street,
And with large drops of dew
Were sprinkled her feet.

For long did I ask of her
To wait for winter with me,
But she said, "The grave is here,
How can you breathe, you see?"

I wanted to give her a dove
That is whiter than all the rest
But the bird herself flew above
After my graceful guest.

Looking at her I was silent,
I loved...Read more of this...

Dont forget to view our wonderful member Street poems.


Book: Reflection on the Important Things