Famous To Each His Own Poems by Famous Poets
These are examples of famous To Each His Own poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous to each his own poems. These examples illustrate what a famous to each his own poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).
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by
Emily Dickinson
Because 'twas Riches I could own,
Myself had earned it -- Me,
I knew the Dollars by their names --
It feels like Poverty
An Earldom out of sight to hold,
An Income in the Air,
Possession -- has a sweeter chink
Unto a Miser's Ear --...Read more of this...
by
William Shakespeare
Those lips that Love's own hand did make
Breathed forth the sound that said "I hate"
To me that languished for her sake;
But when she saw my woeful state,
Straight in her heart did mercy come,
Chiding that tongue that ever sweet
Was used in giving gentle doom,
And taught it thus anew to greet:
"I hate" she altered with an end,
That followed it as gentle...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
A Mine there is no Man would own
But must it be conferred,
Demeaning by exclusive wealth
A Universe beside --
Potosi never to be spent
But hoarded in the mind
What Misers wring their hands tonight
For Indies in the Ground!...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
Still own thee -- still thou art
What surgeons call alive --
Though slipping -- slipping I perceive
To thy reportless Grave --
Which question shall I clutch --
What answer wrest from thee
Before thou dost exude away
In the recallless sea?...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
I am afraid to own a Body --
I am afraid to own a Soul --
Profound -- precarious Property --
Possession, not optional --
Double Estate -- entailed at pleasure
Upon an unsuspecting Heir --
Duke in a moment of Deathlessness
And God, for a Frontier....Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
Free yourselves from your own passions and insatiate
greed and lo! you shall go out poor as a mendicant.
Look, rather, unto what you are, whence you have come,
and learn what you are doing and where bound....Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
Obtaining but our own Extent
In whatsoever Realm --
'Twas Christ's own personal Expanse
That bore him from the Tomb --...Read more of this...
by
Fernando Pessoa
When I should be asleep to mine own voice
In telling thee how much thy love's my dream,
I find me listening to myself, the noise
Of my words othered in my hearing them.
Yet wonder not: this is the poet's soul.
I could not tell thee well of how I love,
Loved I not less by knowing it, were all
My self my love and no...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
Our own possessions -- though our own --
'Tis well to hoard anew --
Remembering the Dimensions
Of Possibility....Read more of this...
by
William Shakespeare
Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul
Of the wide world, dreaming on things to come
Can yet the lease of my true love control,
Supposed as forfeit to a confined doom.
The mortal moon hath her eclipse endured,
And the sad augurs mock their own presage;
Incertainties now crown themselves assured,
And peace proclaims olives of endless age.
Now with the drops of this most...Read more of this...
by
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
My own Beloved, who hast lifted me
From this drear flat of earth where I was thrown,
And, in betwixt the languid ringlets, blown
A life-breath, till the forehead hopefully
Shines out again, as all the angels see,
Before thy saving kiss! My own, my own,
Who camest to me when the world was gone,
And I who looked for only God, found thee!
I find thee;...Read more of this...
by
Robert Southey
And I was once like this! that glowing cheek
Was mine, those pleasure-sparkling eyes, that brow
Smooth as the level lake, when not a breeze
Dies o'er the sleeping surface! twenty years
Have wrought strange alteration! Of the friends
Who once so dearly prized this miniature,
And loved it for its likeness, some are gone
To their last home; and some, estranged in heart,
Beholding me with...Read more of this...
by
Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
As Christ the Lord was passing by,
He came, one night, to a cottage door.
He came, a poor man, to the poor;
He had no bed whereon to lie.
He asked in vain for a crust of bread,
Standing there in the frozen blast.
The door was locked and bolted fast.
‘Only a beggar!’ the poor man said....Read more of this...
by
Thomas Moore
Oh! had we some bright little isle of our own,
In a blue summer ocean, far off and alone,
Where a leaf never dies in the still blooming bowers,
And the bee banquets on through a whole year of flowers;
Where the sun loves to pause
With so fond a delay,
That the night only draws
A thin veil...Read more of this...
by
Sarojini Naidu
WHEN from my cheek I lift my veil,
The roses turn with envy pale,
And from their pierced hearts, rich with pain,
Send forth their fragrance like a wail.
Or if perchance one perfumed tress
Be lowered to the wind's caress,
The honeyed hyacinths complain,
And languish in a sweet distress.
And, when I pause, still groves among,
(Such...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
Of Life to own --
From Life to draw --
But never tough the reservoir --...Read more of this...
by
Carl Sandburg
HOKUSAI’S portrait of himself
Tells what his hat was like
And his arms and legs. The only faces
Are a river and a mountain
And two laughing farmers.
The smile of Hokusai
is under his hat....Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
How long can I hold you by my ignorance? My own
annihilation oppresses my heart. Straightway I gird my
loins with the ephod of the priests. Do you know why?
Because it is the fashion of the Musulman, and I am one....Read more of this...
by
Vachel Lindsay
Are these your presences, my clan from Heaven?
Are these your hands upon my wounded soul?
Mine own, mine own, blood of my blood be with me,
Fly by my path till you have made me whole!...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
To own the Art within the Soul
The Soul to entertain
With Silence as a Company
And Festival maintain
Is an unfurnished Circumstance
Possession is to One
As an Estate perpetual
Or a reduceless Mine....Read more of this...
by
Margaret Atwood
Your lungs fill & spread themselves,
wings of pink blood, and your bones
empty themselves and become hollow.
When you breathe in you’ll lift like a balloon
and your heart is light too & huge,
beating with pure joy, pure helium.
The sun’s white winds blow through you,
there’s nothing above you,
you see the earth now as an oval jewel,
radiant & seablue with love.
It’s only in...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
I close the door of hope in my own face,
Nor sue for favours from good men, or base;
I have but ONE to lend a helping hand,
He knows, as well as I, my sorry case....Read more of this...
by
Sir Thomas Wyatt
Mine own John Poynz, since ye delight to know
The cause why that homeward I me draw,
And flee the press of courts, whereso they go,
Rather than to live thrall under the awe
Of lordly looks, wrappèd within my cloak,
To will and lust learning to set a law:
It is not for because I scorn or mock
The power of them, to whom fortune...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
Drunkenness has transported us from our own misery
here below to untold joys; from our humble condition, it
has raised our heads to the skies. Nevertheless, behold
us finally freed from our thraldom to the body! Behold
us returned again to the earth, whence we came!...Read more of this...
by
Robert Louis Stevenson
I DO not fear to own me kin
To the glad clods in which spring flowers begin;
Or to my brothers, the great trees,
That speak with pleasant voices in the breeze,
Loud talkers with the winds that pass;
Or to my sister, the deep grass.
Of such I am, of such my body is,
That thrills to reach its lips to kiss.
That gives and takes...Read more of this...
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