Famous Tell Poems by Famous Poets
These are examples of famous Tell poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous tell poems. These examples illustrate what a famous tell poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).
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by
Robert Penn Warren
Long ago, in Kentucky, I, a boy, stood
By a dirt road, in first dark, and heard
The great geese hoot northward.
I could not see them, there being no moon
And the stars sparse.I heard them.
I did not know what was happening in my heart.
It was the season before the elderberry blooms,
Therefore they were going north.
The sound was passing northward....Read more of this...
by
Stephen Crane
"Tell brave deeds of war."
Then they recounted tales, --
"There were stern stands
And bitter runs for glory."
Ah, I think there were braver deeds....Read more of this...
by
Lam Quang My
The night is ill
The moon nurses
Drunken cloud
Wanders ahead
Wind pretends
Great busyness
Rain cries his eyes out
In a worried night
Crowd in your door
Doubt if to go: in or out.
Far road
Moon grants wings to me
I collect dry petals
of last year’s flowers
to bury under them
the distance of my longing...Read more of this...
by
Eliza Cook
THREE summers have gone since the first time we met, love,
And still 'tis in vain that I ask thee to wed ;
I hear no reply but a gentle " Not yet, love,"
With a smile of your lip, and a shake of your head.
Ah ! how oft have I whispered, how oft have I sued thee,
And breathed my soul's question...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
Savior! I've no one else to tell --
And so I trouble thee.
I am the one forgot thee so --
Dost thou remember me?
Nor, for myself, I came so far --
That were the little load --
I brought thee the imperial Heart
I had not strength to hold --
The Heart I carried in my own --
Till mine too heavy grew --
Yet -- strangest...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
Tell me, friend, have I acquired riches in this world?
No. Have I given myself up to time as it was slipping
away? No. I am the torch of joy; but that torch once
extinguished, I am nothing. I am the cup of Djem [the
royal cup], but that cup once broken, I am no longer
anything....Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
"Go tell it" -- What a Message --
To whom -- is specified --
Not murmur -- not endearment --
But simply -- we -- obeyed --
Obeyed -- a Lure -- a Longing?
Oh Nature -- none of this --
To Law -- said sweet Thermopylae
I give my dying Kiss --...Read more of this...
by
William Shakespeare
Look in thy glass, and tell the face thou viewest
Now is the time that face should form another;
Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest,
Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.
For where is she so fair whose unear'd womb
Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?
Or who is he so fond will be the...Read more of this...
by
Jean Toomer
Tell me, dear beauty of the dusk,
When purple ribbons bind the hill,
Do dreams your secret wish fulfill,
Do prayers, like kernels from the husk
Come from your lips? Tell me if when
The mountains loom at night, giant shades
Of softer shadow, swift like blades
Of grass seeds come to flower. Then
Tell me if the night winds bend
Them towards me, if the Shenandoah
As it...Read more of this...
by
Andrew Barton Paterson
Now listen to me and I'll tell you my views concerning the African war,
And the man who upholds any different views, the same is a ritten Pro-Boer!
(Though I'm getting a little bit doubtful myself, as it drags on week after week:
But it's better not ask any questions at all -- let us silence all doubts with...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
A Tongue -- to tell Him I am true!
Its fee -- to be of Gold --
Had Nature -- in Her monstrous House
A single Ragged Child --
To earn a Mine -- would run
That Interdicted Way,
And tell Him -- Charge thee speak it plain --
That so far -- Truth is True?
And answer What I do --
Beginning with the Day
That Night --...Read more of this...
by
Mother Goose
I'll tell you a story
About Jack-a-Nory:
And now my story's begun.
I'll tell you another
About his brother:
And now my story is done....Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
They tell you not to drink, that otherwise you shall
become a prey to torment, and that in the day of
reckoning you will burn as fire. That may be, but the
day in which wine makes you joyous is more precious
than the goods of this world and those of the next....Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
Tell all the Truth but tell it slant --
Success in Circuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight
The Truth's superb surprise
As Lightning to the Children eased
With explanation kind
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind --...Read more of this...
by
A E Housman
Tell me not here, it needs not saying,
What tune the enchantress plays
In aftermaths of soft September
Or under blanching mays,
For she and I were long acquainted
And I knew all her ways.
On russet floors, by waters idle,
The pine lets fall its cone;
The cuckoo shouts all day at nothing
In leafy dells alone;
And traveller’s joy beguiles in autumn
Hearts that have lost their own.
On...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
Tell Khayyam, for a master of the schools,
He strangely misinterprets my plain rules:
Where have I said that wine is wrong for all?
'Tis lawful for the wise, but not for fools....Read more of this...
by
Paul Muldoon
He opens the scullery door, and a sudden rush
of wind, as raw as raw,
brushes past him as he himself will brush
past the stacks of straw
that stood in earlier for Crow
or Comanche tepees hung with scalps
but tonight past muster, row upon row,
for the foothills of the Alps.
He opens the door of the peeling-shed
just as one of the apple-peelers
(one of almost...Read more of this...
by
Henry Lawson
The fields are fair in autumn yet, and the sun's still shining there,
But we bow our heads and we brood and fret, because of the masks we wear;
Or we nod and smile the social while, and we say we're doing well,
But we break our hearts, oh, we break our hearts! for the things we must not...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
Sweet Mountains -- Ye tell Me no lie --
Never deny Me -- Never fly --
Those same unvarying Eyes
Turn on Me -- when I fail -- or feign,
Or take the Royal names in vain --
Their far -- slow -- Violet Gaze --
My Strong Madonnas -- Cherish still --
The Wayward Nun -- beneath the Hill --
Whose service -- is to You...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
"Houses" -- so the Wise Men tell me --
"Mansions"! Mansions must be warm!
Mansions cannot let the tears in,
Mansions must exclude the storm!
"Many Mansions," by "his Father,"
I don't know him; snugly built!
Could the Children find the way there --
Some, would even trudge tonight!...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
We should tell no secrets to the vilely indiscreet; from
the nightingale, even, should we conceal them. Consider,
then, the torment you inflict on human souls by forcing
them to disrobe thus before the gaze of all....Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
Better to be with Thee in the tavern, and there tell
Thee my secret thoughts, than to go without Thee and
make a prayer in the mosque. Yea, O Creator of all
that was and all that is! such is my faith, whether Thou
burnest me, or accordest me Thy favor....Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
I've none to tell me to but Thee
So when Thou failest, nobody.
It was a little tie --
It just held Two, nor those it held
Since Somewhere thy sweet Face has spilled
Beyond my Boundary --
If things were opposite -- and Me
And Me it were -- that ebbed from Thee
On some unanswering Shore --
Would'st Thou seek so -- just say
That I the...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
I can but vaguely tell my secret to the bad or to the
good. I cannot elaborate or explain my thought, which
is essentially brief. I see a place of which I can only
trace a description; I possess a secret which I cannot unveil.
287...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
The Martyr Poets -- did not tell --
But wrought their Pang in syllable --
That when their mortal name be numb --
Their mortal fate -- encourage Some --
The Martyr Painters -- never spoke --
Bequeathing -- rather -- to their Work --
That when their conscious fingers cease --
Some seek in Art -- the Art of Peace --...Read more of this...
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