Famous Thorny Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Ode in Memory of the American Volunteers Fallen for France

by Alan Seeger
 I

Ay, it is fitting on this holiday, 
Commemorative of our soldier dead, 
When -- with sweet flowers of our New England May 
Hiding the lichened stones by fifty years made gray -- 
Their graves in every town are garlanded, 
That pious tribute should be given too 
To our intrepid few 
Obscurely fallen here beyond the seas. 
Those to preserve...Read more of this...

Ye Banks And Braes OBonnie Doon

by Robert Burns
 Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon,
How can ye bloom sae fair!
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae fu' o' care!

Thou'll break my heart, thou bonnie bird
That sings upon the bough;
Thou minds me o' the happy days
When my fause Luve was true.

Thou'll break my heart, thou bonnie bird
That sings beside thy mate;
For sae I sat, and sae...Read more of this...

316. Song—The Banks o' Doon (First Version)

by Robert Burns
 SWEET are the banks—the banks o’ Doon,
 The spreading flowers are fair,
And everything is blythe and glad,
 But I am fu’ o’ care.
Thou’ll break my heart, thou bonie bird,
 That sings upon the bough;
Thou minds me o’ the happy days
 When my fause Luve was true:
Thou’ll break my heart, thou bonie bird,
 That sings beside thy mate;
For sae I...Read more of this...

Emptying Town

by Nick Flynn
 I want to erase your footprints
from my walls. Each pillow
is thick with your reasons. Omens 

fill the sidewalk below my window: a woman
in a party hat, clinging
to a tin-foil balloon. Shadows 

creep slowly across the tar, someone yells, "Stop!"
and I close my eyes. I can't watch 

as this town slowly empties, leaving me
strung between bon-voyages, like so many clothes
on...Read more of this...

Song of Marions Men

by William Cullen Bryant
OUR band is few but true and tried  
Our leader frank and bold; 
The British soldier trembles 
When Marion's name is told. 
Our fortress is the good greenwood 5 
Our tent the cypress-tree; 
We know the forest round us  
As seamen know the sea. 
We know its walls of thorny vines  
Its glades of reedy grass 10...Read more of this...

195. Song—A Rose-bud by my Early Walk

by Robert Burns
 A ROSE-BUD by my early walk,
Adown a corn-enclosed bawk,
Sae gently bent its thorny stalk,
 All on a dewy morning.
Ere twice the shades o’ dawn are fled,
In a’ its crimson glory spread,
And drooping rich the dewy head,
 It scents the early morning.


Within the bush her covert nest
A little linnet fondly prest;
The dew sat chilly on her breast,
 Sae early in...Read more of this...

56. Epistle to Davie A Brother Poet

by Robert Burns
 WHILE winds frae aff Ben-Lomond blaw,
An’ bar the doors wi’ driving snaw,
 An’ hing us owre the ingle,
I set me down to pass the time,
An’ spin a verse or twa o’ rhyme,
 In hamely, westlin jingle.
While frosty winds blaw in the drift,
 Ben to the chimla lug,
I grudge a wee the great-folk’s gift,
 That live sae bien an’ snug:
...Read more of this...

12. Song—The Lass of Cessnock Banks

by Robert Burns
 ON Cessnock banks a lassie dwells;
 Could I describe her shape and mein;
Our lasses a’ she far excels,
 An’ she has twa sparkling roguish een.


She’s sweeter than the morning dawn,
 When rising Phoebus first is seen,
And dew-drops twinkle o’er the lawn;
 An’ she has twa sparkling roguish een.


She’s stately like yon youthful ash,
 That grows the cowslip braes between,
And...Read more of this...

Doubt

by Helen Hunt Jackson
 1 They bade me cast the thing away, 
2 They pointed to my hands all bleeding,
3 They listened not to all my pleading;
4 The thing I meant I could not say;
5 I knew that I should rue the day
6 If once I cast that thing away.

7 I grasped it firm, and bore the pain;
8 The thorny husks I stripped...Read more of this...

Elegy to the Memory of Richard Boyle Esq

by Mary Darby Robinson
 NEAR yon bleak mountain's dizzy height, 
That hangs o'er AVON's silent wave; 
By the pale Crescent's glimm'ring light, 
I sought LORENZO's lonely grave. 

O'er the long grass the silv'ry dew, 
Soft Twilight's tears spontaneous shone; 
And the dank bough of baneful yew 
Supply'd the place of sculptured stone. 

Oft, as my trembling steps drew near, 
The aëry voice of...Read more of this...

Ode to Meditation

by Mary Darby Robinson
 SWEET CHILD OF REASON! maid serene; 
With folded arms, and pensive mien, 
Who wand'ring near yon thorny wild, 
So oft, my length'ning hours beguil'd; 
Thou, who within thy peaceful call, 
Canst laugh at LIFE'S tumultuous care, 
While calm repose delights to dwell 
On beds of fragrant roses there; 
Where meek-ey'd PATIENCE waits to greet 
The woe-worn Trav'ller's weary feet,...Read more of this...

The Great Minimum

by G K Chesterton
 It is something to have wept as we have wept, 
It is something to have done as we have done, 
It is something to have watched when all men slept, 
And seen the stars which never see the sun.

It is something to have smelt the mystic rose, 
Although it break and leave the thorny rods, 
It is something to...Read more of this...

The Other Side of a Mirror

by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
 I sat before my glass one day, 
And conjured up a vision bare, 
Unlike the aspects glad and gay, 
That erst were found reflected there - 
The vision of a woman, wild 
With more than womanly despair. 
Her hair stood back on either side 
A face bereft of loveliness. 
It had no envy now to hide 
What once no...Read more of this...

Sonnet LXIII: The Gossamer

by Charlotte Turner Smith
 O'er faded heath-flowers spun, or thorny furze,
The filmy Gossamer is lightly spread;
Waving in every sighing air that stirs,
As Fairy fingers had entwined the thread:
A thousand trembling orbs of lucid dew
Spangle the texture of the fairy loom,
As if soft Sylphs, lamenting as they flew,
Had wept departed Summer's transient bloom:
But the wind rises, and the turf receives
The glittering web: -- So,...Read more of this...

The Hero

by Rabindranath Tagore
 Mother, let us imagine we are travelling, and passing through a
strange and dangerous country.
You are riding in a palanquin and I am trotting by you on a
red horse.
It is evening and the sun goes down. The waste of Joradighi
lies wan and grey before us. The land is desolate and barren.
You are frightened and thinking-"I know not where we have...Read more of this...

342. Song—Sweet Afton

by Robert Burns
 FLOW gently, sweet Afton! amang thy green braes,
Flow gently, I’ll sing thee a song in thy praise;
My Mary’s asleep by thy murmuring stream,
Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.


Thou stockdove whose echo resounds thro’ the glen,
Ye wild whistling blackbirds in yon thorny den,
Thou green-crested lapwing thy screaming forbear,
I charge you, disturb not my slumbering Fair.


How lofty, sweet Afton,...Read more of this...

The Ghost

by Charles Baudelaire
 SOFTLY as brown-eyed Angels rove 
I will return to thy alcove, 
And glide upon the night to thee, 
Treading the shadows silently. 

And I will give to thee, my own, 
Kisses as icy as the moon, 
And the caresses of a snake 
Cold gliding in the thorny brake. 

And when returns the livid morn 
Thou shalt find all my...Read more of this...

The gift of yourself

by Emile Verhaeren
The gift of yourself no longer satisfies you; you are prodigal of yourself: the rapture that bears you on to ever greater love springs up in you ceaselessly and untiringly, and carries you ever higher towards the wide heaven of perfect love.
A clasp of the hands, a gentle look impassions you; and your heart appears to me so suddenly lovely...Read more of this...

An Old Cracked Tune

by Stanley Kunitz
 My name is Solomon Levi,
the desert is my home,
my mother's breast was thorny,
and father I had none.

The sands whispered, Be separate,
the stones taught me, Be hard.
I dance, for the joy of surviving,
on the edge of the road....Read more of this...

Ode On The Pleasure Arising From Vicissitude

by Thomas Gray
 Now the golden Morn aloft
Waves her dew-bespangled wing,
With vermeil cheek and whisper soft
She wooes the tardy Spring:
Till April starts, and calls around
The sleeping fragrance from the ground,
And lightly o'er the living scene
Scatters his freshest, tenderest green.

New-born flocks, in rustic dance,
Frisking ply their feeble feet;
Forgetful of their wintry trance
The birds his presence greet:
But chief, the skylark warbles high
His trembling thrilling...Read more of this...

537. Song—O bonie was yon rosy Brier

by Robert Burns
 O BONIE was yon rosy brier,
 That blooms sae far frae haunt o’ man;
And bonie she, and ah, how dear!
 It shaded frae the e’enin sun.


Yon rosebuds in the morning dew,
 How pure, amang the leaves sae green;
But purer was the lover’s vow
 They witness’d in their shade yestreen.


All in its rude and prickly bower,
 That crimson rose, how...Read more of this...

The Sower

by William Cowper
 (Matthew, xiii.3)

Ye sons of earth prepare the plough,
Break up your fallow ground;
The sower is gone forth to sow,
And scatter blessings round.

The seed that finds a stony soil
Shoots forth a hasty blade;
But ill repays the sower's toil,
Soon wither'd, scorch'd, and dead.

The thorny ground is sure to balk
All hopes of harvest there;
We find a tall and sickly stalk,
But not the fruitful...Read more of this...

The Adieu to Love

by Mary Darby Robinson
 LOVE, I renounce thy tyrant sway,
I mock thy fascinating art,
MINE, be the calm unruffled day,
That brings no torment to the heart; 
The tranquil mind, the noiseless scene, 
Where FANCY, with enchanting mien, 
Shall in her right-hand lead along 
The graceful patroness of Song;
Where HARMONY shall softly fling 
Her light tones o'er the dulcet string; 
And with her magic LYRE...Read more of this...

Momus God Of Laughter

by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
 Though with gods the world is cumbered, 
Gods unnamed, and gods unnumbered, 
Never god was known to be
Who had not his devotee.
So I dedicate to mine, 
Here in verse, my temple-shrine.

‘Tis not Ares, - mighty Mars, 
Who can give success in wars.
‘Tis not Morpheus, who doth keep
Guard above us while we sleep, 
‘Tis not Venus, she whose duty
‘Tis to...Read more of this...

The Bard

by Thomas Gray
 Pindaric Ode

"Ruin seize thee, ruthless King!
Confusion on thy banners wait!
Tho' fanned by Conquest's crimson wing,
They mock the air with idle state.
Helm, nor hauberk's twisted mail,
Nor e'en thy virtues, Tyrant, shall avail
To save thy secret soul from nightly fears,
From Cambria's curse, from Cambria's tears!"
Such were the sounds that o'er the crested pride
Of the first Edward scattered wild dismay,
As down the...Read more of this...

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