Famous Swords Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Oh For the Swords of Former Time

by Thomas Moore
 Oh for the swords of former time! 
Oh for the men who bore them, 
When, arm'd for Right, they stood sublime, 
And tyrants crouch'd before them: 
When free yet, ere courts began 
With honours to enslave him, 
The best honours worn by Man 
Were those which Virtue gave him. 
Oh for the swords, etc., etc. 

Oh for the Kings...Read more of this...

Go, book: go, vessel laden with the mind

by Hafez
Go, book: go, vessel laden with the mind
That builded thee, go now & bear thy freight
Of man’s old messaging to all mankind.

Say first:—Such oft-told things as I relate,
Such pond’rous words strung on unperish’d thought,
Such pearly praises worn by countless queens,
Such temper’d swords wherewith heroes have fought,
Such sceptres that have ruled all earth’s demesnes,
Such broider’d robes, such antique jewelry,
Such orbs, such...Read more of this...

A Farewell to Secretary Shu-yun at the Hsieh Tiao Villa in Hsuan-Chou

by Li Bai
Since yesterday had throw me and bolt,
Today has hurt my heart even more.
The autumn wildgeese have a long wing for escort
As I face them from this villa, drinking my wine.
The bones of great writers are your brushes, in the school of heaven,
And I am Lesser Hsieh growing up by your side.
We both are exalted to distant thought,
Aspiring to the sky...Read more of this...

Blakes Victory

by Andrew Marvell
 On the Victory Obtained by Blake over the Spaniards in the Bay of Santa Cruz, in the Island of Tenerife, 1657

Now does Spain's fleet her spacious wings unfold, 
Leaves the New World and hastens for the old: 
But though the wind was fair, they slowly swum 
Freighted with acted guilt, and guilt to come: 
For this rich load, of...Read more of this...

The Equilibrists

by John Crowe Ransom
 Full of her long white arms and milky skin 
He had a thousand times remembered sin. 
Alone in the press of people traveled he, 
Minding her jacinth, and myrrh, and ivory. 

Mouth he remembered: the quaint orifice 
From which came heat that flamed upon the kiss, 
Till cold words came down spiral from the head. 
Grey doves from the...Read more of this...

The Irish Guards

by Rudyard Kipling
 1918

We're not so old in the Army List,
 But we're not so young at our trade,
For we had the honour at Fontenoy
 Of meeting the Guards'Brigade.
'Twas Lally, Dillon, Bulkeley, Clare,
 And Lee that led us then,
And after a hundred and seventy years
 We're fighting for France again!
Old Days! The wild geese are flighting,
 Head to fhe sform as they...Read more of this...

A Plea

by Robert William Service
 Why need we newer arms invent,
 Poor peoples to destroy?
With what we have let's be content
 And perfect their employ.
With weapons that may millions kill,
 Why should we seek for more,
A brighter spate of blood to spill,
 A deeper sea of gore?

The lurid blaze of atom light
 Vast continents will blind,
And steep in centuries of night
 Despairing humankind.
So let's...Read more of this...

Remorse

by Robert William Service
 That scathing word I used in scorn
(Though half a century ago)
Comes back to me this April morn,
Like boomerang to work me woe;
Comes back to me with bitter blame
(Though apple boughs are blossoming),
And oh! the anguish of my shame
Is sharper than a serpent's sting!

Age sensitizes us to pain,
And when remembrance of some word
We spoke in wrath return again,
It stab is...Read more of this...

Translation From the Gull Language

by Thomas Moore
 'Twas grav'd on the Stone of Destiny,
In letters four, and letters three;
And ne'er did the King of the Gulls go by
But those awful letters scar'd his eye;
For he knew that a Prophet Voice had said
"As long as those words by man were read,
The ancient race of the Gulls should ne'er
One hour of peace or plenty share."
But years and years...Read more of this...

Faces In The Street

by Henry Lawson
 They lie, the men who tell us for reasons of their own
That want is here a stranger, and that misery's unknown;
For where the nearest suburb and the city proper meet
My window-sill is level with the faces in the street 
 Drifting past, drifting past,
 To the beat of weary feet 
While I sorrow for the owners of those faces...Read more of this...

I Am There

by Mahmoud Darwish
 I come from there and remember,
I was born like everyone is born, I have a mother
and a house with many windows,
I have brothers, friends and a prison.
I have a wave that sea-gulls snatched away.
I have a view of my own and an extra blade of grass.
I have a moon past the peak of words.
I have the godsent food of...Read more of this...

The Window Overlooking the Harbour

by Adela Florence Cory Nicolson
   This man has taken my Husband's life
     And laid my Brethren low,
   No sister indeed, were I, no wife,
     To pardon and let him go.

   Yet why does he look so young and slim
     As he weak and wounded lies?
 ...Read more of this...

Fabien Dei Franchi

by Oscar Wilde
 (To my Friend Henry Irving)

The silent room, the heavy creeping shade,
The dead that travel fast, the opening door,
The murdered brother rising through the floor,
The ghost's white fingers on thy shoulders laid,
And then the lonely duel in the glade,
The broken swords, the stifled scream, the gore,
Thy grand revengeful eyes when all is o'er, -
These things are well enough, - but...Read more of this...

He Remembers Forgotten Beauty

by William Butler Yeats
 When my arms wrap you round I press
My heart upon the loveliness
That has long faded from the world;
The jewelled crowns that kings have hurled
In shadowy pools, when armies fled;
The love-tales wrought with silken thread
By dreaming ladies upon cloth
That has made fat the murderous moth;
The roses that of old time were
Woven by ladies in their hair,
The dew-cold lilies ladies bore
Through...Read more of this...

Fleckno an English Priest at Rome

by Andrew Marvell
 Oblig'd by frequent visits of this man,
Whom as Priest, Poet, and Musician,
I for some branch of Melchizedeck took,
(Though he derives himself from my Lord Brooke)
I sought his Lodging; which is at the Sign
Of the sad Pelican; Subject divine
For Poetry: There three Stair Cases high,
Which signifies his triple property,
I found at last a Chamber, as 'twas said,
But seem'd a Coffin...Read more of this...

Carlovingian Dreams

by Carl Sandburg
 COUNT these reminiscences like money.
The Greeks had their picnics under another name.
The Romans wore glad rags and told their neighbors, “What of it?”
The Carlovingians hauling logs on carts, they too
Stuck their noses in the air and stuck their thumbs to their noses
And tasted life as a symphonic dream of fresh eggs broken over a frying pan left by an...Read more of this...

A Poets Voice XV

by Kahlil Gibran
 Part One


The power of charity sows deep in my heart, and I reap and gather the wheat in bundles and give them to the hungry. 

My soul gives life to the grapevine and I press its bunches and give the juice to the thirsty. 

Heaven fills my lamp with oil and I place it at my window to direct...Read more of this...

The Too-Late Born

by Archibald MacLeish
 We too, we too, descending once again
The hills of our own land, we too have heard
Far off --- Ah, que ce cor a longue haleine ---
The horn of Roland in the passages of Spain,
The first, the second blast, the failing third,
And with the third turned back and climbed once more
The steep road southward, and heard faint the sound
Of swords,...Read more of this...

Wildpeace

by Yehuda Amichai
 Not the peace of a cease-fire
not even the vision of the wolf and the lamb,
but rather
as in the heart when the excitement is over
and you can talk only about a great weariness.
I know that I know how to kill, that makes me an adult.
And my son plays with a toy gun that knows
how to open and close its eyes...Read more of this...

Battle Of Brunanburgh

by Alfred Lord Tennyson
 Athelstan King,
Lord among Earls,
Bracelet-bestower and
Baron of Barons,
He with his brother,
Edmund Atheling,
Gaining a lifelong
Glory in battle,
Slew with the sword-edge
There by Brunanburh,
Brake the shield-wall,
Hew'd the lindenwood,
Hack'd the battleshield,
Sons of Edward with hammer'd brands. 

Theirs was a greatness
Got from their Grandsires--
Theirs that so often in
Strife with their enemies
Struck for their hoards and their hearths and their homes. 

Bow'd the spoiler,
Bent the Scotsman,
Fell...Read more of this...

Up At A Villa— Down In The City

by Robert Browning
 (As Distinguished by an Italian Person of Quality)

I

Had I but plenty of money, money enough and to spare,
The house for me, no doubt, were a house in the city-square;
Ah, such a life, such a life, as one leads at the window there!

II

Something to see, by Bacchus, something to hear, at least!
There, the whole day long, one's life is a...Read more of this...

On A Dissembler

by William Strode
 Could any shewe where Plynyes people dwell
Whose head stands in their breast; who cannot tell
A smoothing lye because their open hart
And lippes are joyn'd so neare, I would depart
As quick as thought, and there forgett the wrongs
Which I have suffer'd by deceitfull tongues.
I should depart where soules departed bee,
Who being freed from cloudy flesh, can see
Each other so immediately,...Read more of this...

Effects At A Distance

by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
 THE queen in the lofty hall takes her place,

The tapers around her are flaming;
She speaks to the page: "With a nimble pace

Go, fetch me my purse for gaming.

'Tis lying, I'll pledge,

On my table's edge."
Each nerve the nimble boy straineth,
And the end of the castle soon gaineth.

The fairest of maidens was sipping sherbet

Beside the queen that minute;
Near her mouth broke...Read more of this...

287. Song—The Battle of Sherramuir

by Robert Burns
 “O CAM ye here the fight to shun,
 Or herd the sheep wi’ me, man?
Or were ye at the Sherra-moor,
 Or did the battle see, man?”
I saw the battle, sair and teugh,
And reekin-red ran mony a sheugh;
My heart, for fear, gaed sough for sough,
To hear the thuds, and see the cluds
O’ clans frae woods, in tartan duds,
 Wha glaum’d...Read more of this...

My Country in Darkness

by Eavan Boland
 After the wolves and before the elms
the bardic order ended in Ireland.

Only a few remained to continue
a dead art in a dying land:

This is a man
on the road from Youghal to Cahirmoyle.
He has no comfort, no food and no future.
He has no fire to recite his friendless measures by.
His riddles and flatteries will have no reward.
His patrons sheath their...Read more of this...

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