Famous Tie Up Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Blue Girls

by John Crowe Ransom
 Twirling your blue skirts, travelling the sward 
Under the towers of your seminary, 
Go listen to your teachers old and contrary 
Without believing a word. 

Tie the white fillets then about your hair 
And think no more of what will come to pass 
Than bluebirds that go walking on the grass 
And chattering on the air. 

Practice your beauty,...Read more of this...

I tie my Hat -- I crease my Shawl

by Emily Dickinson
 I tie my Hat -- I crease my Shawl --
Life's little duties do -- precisely --
As the very least
Were infinite -- to me --

I put new Blossoms in the Glass --
And throw the old -- away --
I push a petal from my gown
That anchored there -- I weigh
The time 'twill be till six o'clock
I have so much to do...Read more of this...

Sonnet 19 - The souls Rialto hath its merchandise

by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
 XIX

The soul's Rialto hath its merchandise;
I barter curl for curl upon that mart,
And from my poet's forehead to my heart
Receive this lock which outweighs argosies,—
As purply black, as erst to Pindar's eyes
The dim purpureal tresses gloomed athwart
The nine white Muse-brows. For this counterpart, . . .
The bay-crown's shade, Beloved, I surmise,
Still lingers on thy curl, it is so black!
Thus,...Read more of this...

No Neck-Tie Party

by Robert William Service
 A prisoner speaks:

Majority of twenty-three,
I face the Judge with joy and glee;
For am I not a lucky chap -
No more hanging, no more cap;
A "lifer," yes, but well I know
In fifteen years they'll let me go;
For I'll be pious in my prison,
Sing with gusto: Christ Is Risen;
Serve the hymn-books out on Sunday,
Sweep the chapel clean on Monday:
Such a model...Read more of this...

On a Portrait of a Deaf Man

by John Betjeman
 The kind old face, the egg-shaped head,
The tie, discreetly loud,
The loosely fitting shooting clothes,
A closely fitting shroud.

He liked old city dining rooms,
Potatoes in their skin,
But now his mouth is wide to let
The London clay come in.

He took me on long silent walks
In country lanes when young.
He knew the names of ev'ry bird
But not the song it sung.

And when he...Read more of this...

Ive none to tell me to but Thee

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...

Jealousy

by Rupert Brooke
 When I see you, who were so wise and cool,
Gazing with silly sickness on that fool
You've given your love to, your adoring hands
Touch his so intimately that each understands,
I know, most hidden things; and when I know
Your holiest dreams yield to the stupid bow
Of his red lips, and that the empty grace
Of those strong legs and arms, that rosy...Read more of this...

The Bracelet To Julia

by Robert Herrick
 Why I tie about thy wrist,
Julia, this my silken twist?
For what other reason is't,
But to shew thee how in part
Thou my pretty captive art?
But thy bond-slave is my heart;
'Tis but silk that bindeth thee,
Knap the thread and thou art free;
But 'tis otherwise with me;
I am bound, and fast bound so,
That from thee I cannot go;
If I could, I would...Read more of this...

Roses And Rue

by Oscar Wilde
 (To L. L.)

Could we dig up this long-buried treasure,
Were it worth the pleasure,
We never could learn love's song,
We are parted too long.

Could the passionate past that is fled
Call back its dead,
Could we live it all over again,
Were it worth the pain!

I remember we used to meet
By an ivied seat,
And you warbled each pretty word
With the air of a bird;

And...Read more of this...

The Old Arm-chair

by Eliza Cook
 I LOVE it, I love it ; and who shall dare
To chide me for loving that old Arm-chair ?
I've treasured it long as a sainted prize ;
I've bedewed it with tears, and embalmed it with sighs.
' Tis bound by a thousand bands to my heart ;
Not a tie will break, not a link will start.
Would ye learn the spell...Read more of this...

The Fury Of Overshoes

by Anne Sexton
 They sit in a row 
outside the kindergarten, 
black, red, brown, all 
with those brass buckles. 
Remember when you couldn't 
buckle your own 
overshoe 
or tie your own 
overshoe 
or tie your own shoe 
or cut your own meat 
and the tears 
running down like mud 
because you fell off your 
tricycle? 
Remember, big fish, 
when you couldn't swim...Read more of this...

Eugene Carman

by Edgar Lee Masters
 Rhodes' slave! Selling shoes and gingham,
Flour and bacon, overalls, clothing, all day long
For fourteen hours a day for three hundred and thirteen days
For more than twenty years.
Saying "Yes'm" and "Yes, sir", and "Thank you"
A thousand times a day, and all for fifty dollars a month.
Living in this stinking room in the rattle-trap "Commercial."
And compelled to go to Sunday School,...Read more of this...

Tie the Strings to my Life My Lord

by Emily Dickinson
 Tie the Strings to my Life, My Lord,
Then, I am ready to go!
Just a look at the Horses --
Rapid! That will do!

Put me in on the firmest side --
So I shall never fall --
For we must ride to the Judgment --
And it's partly, down Hill --

But never I mind the steeper --
And never I mind the Sea --
Held fast...Read more of this...

Introduction To Poetry

by Billy Collins
 I ask them to take a poem
and hold it up to the light 
like a color slide

or press an ear against its hive.

I say drop a mouse into a poem
and watch him probe his way out,

or walk inside the poem's room
and feel the walls for a light switch.

I want them to waterski
across the surface of a poem
waving at the...Read more of this...

The Poet Of Ignorance

by Anne Sexton
 Perhaps the earth is floating,
I do not know.
Perhaps the stars are little paper cutups
made by some giant scissors,
I do not know.
Perhaps the moon is a frozen tear,
I do not know.
Perhaps God is only a deep voice
heard by the deaf,
I do not know.

Perhaps I am no one.
True, I have a body
and I cannot escape from it.
I would like to fly...Read more of this...

240. Verses on a Parting Kiss

by Robert Burns
 HUMID seal of soft affections,
 Tenderest pledge of future bliss,
Dearest tie of young connections,
 Love’s first snowdrop, virgin kiss!


Speaking silence, dumb confession,
 Passion’s birth, and infant’s play,
Dove-like fondness, chaste concession,
 Glowing dawn of future day!


Sorrowing joy, Adieu’s last action,
 (Lingering lips must now disjoin),
What words can ever speak affection
 So thrilling and sincere as thine!...Read more of this...

The Bishop Orders His Tomb At Saint Praxeds Church

by Robert Browning
 Vanity, saith the preacher, vanity!
Draw round my bed: is Anselm keeping back?
Nephews -- sons mine -- ah God, I know not! Well --
She, men would have to be your mother once,
Old Gandolf envied me, so fair she was!
What's done is done, and she is dead beside,
Dead long ago, and I am Bishop since,
And as she died so must we...Read more of this...

Why May Not I Love Johnny?

by Mother Goose
Johnny shall have a new bonnet,
  And Johnny shall go to the fair,
And Johnny shall have a blue ribbon
  To tie up his bonny brown hair.

And why may not I love Johnny?
  And why may not Johnny love me?
And why may not I love Johnny
  As well as another body?

And here's a leg for a stocking,
...Read more of this...

27. The Death and Dying Words of Poor Mailie

by Robert Burns
 AS Mailie, an’ her lambs thegither,
Was ae day nibbling on the tether,
Upon her cloot she coost a hitch,
An’ owre she warsl’d in the ditch:
There, groaning, dying, she did lie,
When Hughoc he cam doytin by.


 Wi’ glowrin een, and lifted han’s
Poor Hughoc like a statue stan’s;
He saw her days were near-hand ended,
But, wae’s my heart! he could na mend it!
He...Read more of this...

As Slow Our Ship

by Thomas Moore
 As slow our ship her foamy track 
Against the wind was cleaving, 
Her trembling pennant still look'd back 
To that dear isle 'twas leaving. 
So loath we part from all we love, 
From all the links that bind us; 
So turn our hearts as on we rove, 
To those we've left behind us. 

When, round the bowl, of vanish'd...Read more of this...

A Subalterns Love Song

by John Betjeman
 Miss J.Hunter Dunn, Miss J.Hunter Dunn,
Furnish'd and burnish'd by Aldershot sun,
What strenuous singles we played after tea,
We in the tournament - you against me!

Love-thirty, love-forty, oh! weakness of joy,
The speed of a swallow, the grace of a boy,
With carefullest carelessness, gaily you won,
I am weak from your loveliness, Joan Hunter Dunn

Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn,
How mad...Read more of this...

I sing to use the Waiting

by Emily Dickinson
 I sing to use the Waiting
My Bonnet but to tie
And shut the Door unto my House
No more to do have I

Till His best step approaching
We journey to the Day
And tell each other how We sung
To Keep the Dark away....Read more of this...

To Speak of Woe That Is in Marriage

by Robert Lowell
 "It is the future generation that presses into being by means of
 these exuberant feelings and supersensible soap bubbles of ours."
 --Schopenhauer

"The hot night makes us keep our bedroom windows open.
Our magnolia blossoms. Life begins to happen.
My hopped up husband drops his home disputes,
and hits the streets to cruise for prostitutes,
free-lancing out along the razor's edge.
This screwball might kill...Read more of this...

LEnvoi

by Robert William Service
 "Alas! my songs have ceased to sell,"
Bemoaned a brother bard;
To me his words were like a knell,
Inexorably hard.
For well I know the day is nigh
When time will toll the bell,
And people will no longer buy
The songs I have to sell.

To barter books for bread, thought I,
I have no pressing need;
I do do not care if folks will buy,
So long...Read more of this...

The Sash

by Sharon Olds
 The first ones were attached to my dress
at the waist, one on either side,
right at the point where hands could clasp you and
pick you up, as if you were a hot
squeeze bottle of tree syrup, and the
sashes that emerged like axil buds from the
angles of the waist were used to play horses, that
racing across the cement while someone
held your...Read more of this...

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