Famous Text Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Plutonian Ode

by Allen Ginsberg
 I

What new element before us unborn in nature? Is there
 a new thing under the Sun?
At last inquisitive Whitman a modern epic, detonative,
 Scientific theme
First penned unmindful by Doctor Seaborg with poison-
 ous hand, named for Death's planet through the 
 sea beyond Uranus
whose chthonic ore fathers this magma-teared Lord of 
 Hades, Sire of avenging Furies, billionaire Hell-
...Read more of this...

This is to Love

by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
This is love: to fly to heaven, every moment to rend a hundred veils;
At first instance, to break away from breath –
first step, to renounce feet;
To disregard this world, to see only that which you yourself have seen I said,   “Heart, congratulations on entering the circle of...Read more of this...

The Deacons Masterpiece Or The Wonderful One-Hoss Shay: A Logical Story

by Oliver Wendell Holmes
 Have you heard of the wonderful one-hoss shay, 
That was built in such a logical way
It ran a hundred years to a day,
And then, of a sudden, it -- ah, but stay,
I'll tell you what happened without delay,
Scaring the parson into fits,
Frightening people out of their wits, --
Have you ever heard of that, I say?

Seventeen hundred and fifty-five.
Georgius Secundus...Read more of this...

The Organ-Blower

by Oliver Wendell Holmes
 DEVOUTEST of my Sunday friends,
The patient Organ-blower bends;
I see his figure sink and rise,
(Forgive me, Heaven, my wandering eyes!)
A moment lost, the next half seen,
His head above the scanty screen,
Still measuring out his deep salaams
Through quavering hymns and panting psalms.

No priest that prays in gilded stole,
To save a rich man's mortgaged soul;
No sister, fresh from holy vows,
So humbly stoops,...Read more of this...

The Fifth Ode Of Horace. Lib. I

by John Milton
 Quis multa gracilis te puer in Rosa
Rendred almost word for word without Rhyme according to the
Latin Measure, as near as the Language permit.

WHAT slender Youth bedew'd with liquid odours
Courts thee on Roses in some pleasant Cave,
Pyrrha for whom bind'st thou
In wreaths thy golden Hair,
Plain in thy neatness; O how oft shall he
On Faith and changed Gods complain: and Seas
Rough...Read more of this...

The Grandmother

by Alfred Lord Tennyson
 I.
And Willy, my eldest-born, is gone, you say, little Anne?
Ruddy and white, and strong on his legs, he looks like a man.
And Willy's wife has written: she never was over-wise,
Never the wife for Willy: he would n't take my advice. 

II.
For, Annie, you see, her father was not the man to save,
Had n't a head to manage, and drank...Read more of this...

Michael Robartes And The Dancer

by William Butler Yeats
 He. Opinion is not worth a rush;
In this altar-piece the knight,
Who grips his long spear so to push
That dragon through the fading light,
Loved the lady; and it's plain
The half-dead dragon was her thought,
That every morning rose again
And dug its claws and shrieked and fought.
Could the impossible come to pass
She would have time to turn her eyes,
Her lover thought, upon...Read more of this...

We Are As The Flute

by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
We are as the flute, and the music in us is from thee;
we are as the mountain and the echo in us is from thee.  We are as pieces of chess engaged in victory and defeat:
our victory and defeat is from thee,
O thou whose qualities are comely! Who are we, O Thou soul of our souls,
that we should remain...Read more of this...

On Lippe the Teacher

by Ben Jonson
LXXV. — ON LIPPE THE TEACHER. I cannot think there's that antipathy 'Twixt puritans and players, as some cry; Though LIPPE, at Paul's, ran from his text away, To inveigh 'gainst plays, what did he then but play?...Read more of this...

Scotland 1941

by Edwin Muir
 We were a tribe, a family, a people.
Wallace and Bruce guard now a painted field,
And all may read the folio of our fable,
Peruse the sword, the sceptre and the shield.
A simple sky roofed in that rustic day,
The busy corn-fields and the haunted holms,
The green road winding up the ferny brae.
But Knox and Melville clapped their preaching palms
And bundled all...Read more of this...

Soliloquy Of The Spanish Cloister

by Robert Browning
 I.

Gr-r-r---there go, my heart's abhorrence!
Water your damned flower-pots, do!
If hate killed men, Brother Lawrence,
God's blood, would not mine kill you!
What? your myrtle-bush wants trimming?
Oh, that rose has prior claims---
Needs its leaden vase filled brimming?
Hell dry you up with its flames!

II.

At the meal we sit together:
_Salve tibi!_ I must hear
Wise talk of the kind of weather,
Sort of season, time of...Read more of this...

The Levelled Churchyard

by Thomas Hardy
 "O passenger, pray list and catch 
 Our sighs and piteous groans, 
Half stifled in this jumbled patch 
 Of wrenched memorial stones! 

"We late-lamented, resting here, 
 Are mixed to human jam, 
And each to each exclaims in fear, 
 'I know not which I am!' 

"The wicked people have annexed 
 The verses on the good; 
A...Read more of this...

Mrs Frances Hariss Petition

by Jonathan Swift
 To their Excellencies the Lords Justices of Ireland,
The humble petition of Frances Harris,
Who must starve and die a maid if it miscarries;
Humble sheweth, that I went to warm myself in Lady Betty's chamber, because I 
was cold;
And I had in a purse seven pounds, four shillings, and sixpence, (besides 
farthings) in money and gold;
So because I had been buying...Read more of this...

Elegy Written In A Country Churchyard

by Thomas Gray
 The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea,
The ploughman homeward plods his weary way,
And leaves the world to darkness and to me.

Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight,
And all the air a solemn stillness holds,
Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight,
And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds;

Save that from yonder...Read more of this...

There Is A Candle In Your Heart

by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
There is a candle in your heart,
      ready to be kindled.
There is a void in your soul,
      ready to be filled.
You feel it, don’t you?
You feel the separation
      from the Beloved.
Invite Him to fill you up,
      embrace the fire.
Remind those who tell you otherwise that 
      Love
      comes...Read more of this...

The Seafarer

by Ezra Pound
 (From the early Anglo-Saxon text) 

May I for my own self song's truth reckon,
Journey's jargon, how I in harsh days
Hardship endured oft.
Bitter breast-cares have I abided,
Known on my keel many a care's hold,
And dire sea-surge, and there I oft spent
Narrow nightwatch nigh the ship's head
While she tossed close to cliffs. Coldly afflicted,
My feet were by frost benumbed.
Chill its chains...Read more of this...

With a Copy of Shakespeares Sonnets on Leaving College

by Alan Seeger
 As one of some fat tillage dispossessed, 
Weighing the yield of these four faded years, 
If any ask what fruit seems loveliest, 
What lasting gold among the garnered ears, -- 
Ah, then I'll say what hours I had of thine, 
Therein I reaped Time's richest revenue, 
Read in thy text the sense of David's line, 
Through thee achieved the...Read more of this...

The School of Night

by Alec Derwent (A D) Hope
 What did I study in your School of Night? 
When your mouth's first unfathomable yes 
Opened your body to be my book, I read 
My answers there and learned the spell aright, 
Yet, though I searched and searched, could never guess 
What spirits it raised nor where their questions led. 

Those others, familiar tenants of your sleep, 
The whisperers,...Read more of this...

The Deacons Masterpiece Or The Wonderful One-Hoss Shay: A Logical Story

by Oliver Wendell Holmes
 Have you heard of the wonderful one-hoss shay, 
That was built in such a logical way
It ran a hundred years to a day,
And then, of a sudden, it -- ah, but stay,
I'll tell you what happened without delay,
Scaring the parson into fits,
Frightening people out of their wits, --
Have you ever heard of that, I say?

Seventeen hundred and fifty-five.
Georgius Secundus...Read more of this...

A Benediction Of The Air

by John Williams
 In every presence there is absence.

When we're together, the spaces between
Threaten to enclose our bodies
And isolate our spirits.
The mirror reflects what we are not,
And we wonder if our mate
Suspects a fatal misreading
Of our original text,
Not to mention the dreaded subtext.
Reality, we fear, mocks appearance.
Or is trapped in a hall of mirrors
Where infinite regress prevents
A grateful egress. That is,
We can...Read more of this...

Without The Wherewithall

by Barry Tebb
 To Thushari Williams 

Dear Thushie, the six months you spent with us 

Will never be forgotten, the long days you laboured

In the care home, your care-worn comings home

To sit with Brenda Williams, po?te maudit sang pur,

Labouring together to bring to light poems buried alive

And turn them into a book, the living text 

Proof enough of your divine gift as...Read more of this...

To Stella Who Collected and Transcribed His Poems

by Jonathan Swift
 As, when a lofty pile is raised,
We never hear the workmen praised,
Who bring the lime, or place the stones;
But all admire Inigo Jones:
So, if this pile of scattered rhymes
Should be approved in aftertimes;
If it both pleases and endures,
The merit and the praise are yours.
Thou, Stella, wert no longer young,
When first for thee my harp was strung,
Without one word of...Read more of this...

Icon !

by Majeed Amjad
Where is she … ?!

That girl who stood on these ramparts years ago

Statuesque … iconic …besieged by the world

A deity …  worshiped by the early glow of my dreams !

Where is she now ?

That crazy-headed rebellious Truth

With the restless, quivering eye lashes

Who came to refute the sham of this world.

 

Under these ramparts,

My breath is still patched and mended

By...Read more of this...

The Days Go By

by Barry Tebb
 for Daniel Weissbort

Some poems meant only for my eyes

About a grief I can’t let go

But I want to, want to throw

It away like an old worn-out cloak

Or screw up like a ball of over-written

Trash and toss into the corner bin.

I said it must come up or out

I don't know which but either way

Will do, I know I can't write...Read more of this...

My Feud

by Robert William Service
 I hate my neighbour Widow Green;
 I'd like to claw her face;
But if I did she'd make a scene
 And run me round the place:
For widows are in way of spleen
 A most pugnacious race.

And yet I must do something quick
 To keep the hag in line,
Since her red rooster chose to pick
 Five lettuce heads of mine:
And so...Read more of this...

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