Famous Tress Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Porphyrias Lover

by Robert Browning
 The rain set early in tonight, 
 The sullen wind was soon awake, 
It tore the elm-tops down for spite, 
 And did its worst to vex the lake: 
 I listened with heart fit to break. 
When glided in Porphyria; straight 
 She shut the cold out and the storm, 
And kneeled and made the cheerless grate 
...Read more of this...

Precious to Me -- She still shall be --

by Emily Dickinson
 Precious to Me -- She still shall be --
Though She forget the name I bear --
The fashion of the Gown I wear --
The very Color of My Hair --

So like the Meadows -- now --
I dared to show a Tress of Theirs
If haply -- She might not despise
A Buttercup's Array --

I know the Whole -- obscures the Part --
The...Read more of this...

The Sleeper

by Edgar Allan Poe
 At midnight, in the month of June,
I stand beneath the mystic moon.
An opiate vapor, dewy, dim,
Exhales from out her golden rim,
And, softly dripping, drop by drop,
Upon the quiet mountain top,
Steals drowsily and musically
Into the universal valley.
The rosemary nods upon the grave;
The lily lolls upon the wave;
Wrapping the fog about its breast,
The ruin molders into rest;
Looking like Lethe, see! the...Read more of this...

The Garden

by Louise Gluck
 How vainly men themselves amaze
To win the Palm, the Oke, or Bayes;
And their uncessant Labours see
Crown'd from some single Herb or Tree,
Whose short and narrow verged Shade
Does prudently their Toyles upbraid;
While all Flow'rs and all Trees do close
To weave the Garlands of repose.

Fair quiet, have I found thee here,
And Innocence thy Sister dear!
Mistaken long, I sought you then
In busie...Read more of this...

To Amarantha That She Would Dishevel Her Hair

by Richard Lovelace
 Amarantha, sweet and fair,
Ah, braid no more that shining hair!
As my curious hand or eye
Hovering round thee, let it fly!

Let it fly as unconfined
As its calm ravisher the wind,
Who hath left his darling th' East,
To wanton o'er that spicy nest.

Every tress must be confessed
But neatly tangled at the best,
Like a clew of golden thread
Most excellently ravelled.

Do not then wind...Read more of this...

3. Song—I dream'd I lay

by Robert Burns
 I DREAM’D I lay where flowers were springing
 Gaily in the sunny beam;
List’ning to the wild birds singing,
 By a falling crystal stream:
Straight the sky grew black and daring;
 Thro’ the woods the whirlwinds rave;
Tress with aged arms were warring,
 O’er the swelling drumlie wave.


Such was my life’s deceitful morning,
 Such the pleasures I enjoyed:
But lang or noon, loud...Read more of this...

She Walks in Beauty

by George (Lord) Byron
She walks in Beauty, like the night 
Of cloudless climes and starry skies; 
And all that's best of dark and bright 
Meet in her aspect and her eyes: 
Thus mellowed to that tender light 
Which Heaven to gaudy day denies. 

One shade the more, one ray the less, 
Had half impaired the nameless grace 
Which waves in every raven tress,...Read more of this...

Twilight by the Cabin

by George William Russell
 DUSK, a pearl-grey river, o’er
 Hill and vale puts out the day—
What do you wonder at, asthore,
 What’s away in yonder grey?


Dark the eyes that linger long—
 Dream-fed heart, awake, come in,
Warm the hearth and gay the song:
 Love with tender words would win.


Fades the eve in dreamy fire,
 But the heart of night is lit:
Ancient beauty, old desire,
...Read more of this...

The Secret Rose

by William Butler Yeats
 Far-off, most secret, and inviolate Rose,
Enfold me in my hour of hours; where those
Who sought thee in the Holy Sepulchre,
Or in the wine-vat, dwell beyond the stir
And tumult of defeated dreams; and deep
Among pale eyelids, heavy with the sleep
Men have named beauty. Thy great leaves enfold
The ancient beards, the helms of ruby and gold
Of the crowned Magi; and the...Read more of this...

Upon A Dying Lady

by William Butler Yeats
 I

Her Courtesy

With the old kindness, the old distinguished grace,
She lies, her lovely piteous head amid dull red hair
propped upon pillows, rouge on the pallor of her face.
She would not have us sad because she is lying there,
And when she meets our gaze her eyes are laughter-lit,
Her speech a wicked tale that we may vie with her,
Matching our broken-hearted wit...Read more of this...

Though beauty's tress be strayed

by Hafez
Though beauty’s tress be strayed, ’tis beauteous still:
Though her bright glance should wander, though it err
& wound me, it shall be forgiven her;
Yea, lov’d is the Belovéd though she kill.

Though should love’s light’ning ravage & consume
Faith’s harvest, & the garner of the wise,
Reproach not nor upbraid her: those bright eyes
Have right all to destroy, that all illume.

Betwixt love’s roses should...Read more of this...

Modern Love: XX

by George Meredith
 I am not of those miserable males
Who sniff at vice and, daring not to snap,
Do therefore hope for heaven. I take the hap
Of all my deeds. The wind that fills my sails
Propels; but I am helmsman. Am I wrecked,
I know the devil has sufficient weight
To bear: I lay it not on him, or fate.
Besides, he's damned. That man I...Read more of this...

Lady button-eyes

by Eugene Field
 When the busy day is done,
And my weary little one
Rocketh gently to and fro;
When the night winds softly blow,
And the crickets in the glen
Chirp and chirp and chirp again;
When upon the haunted green
Fairies dance around their queen -
Then from yonder misty skies
Cometh Lady Button-Eyes.

Through the murk and mist and gloam
To our quiet, cozy home,
Where to singing, sweet and low,
Rocks...Read more of this...

The Song Of Princess Zeb-Un-Nissa In Praise Of Her Own Beauty

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...

Retort

by Paul Laurence Dunbar
"Thou art a fool," said my head to my heart,
"Indeed, the greatest of fools thou art,
To be led astray by the trick of a tress,
By a smiling face or a ribbon smart;"
And my heart was in sore distress.
Then Phyllis came by, and her face was fair,
The light gleamed soft on her raven hair;
And her lips were blooming a rosy red.
Then...Read more of this...

The Song Of The Old Mother

by William Butler Yeats
 I rise in the dawn, and I kneel and blow
Till the seed of the fire flicker and glow;
And then I must scrub and bake and sweep
Till stars are beginning to blink and peep;
And the young lie long and dream in their bed
Of the matching of ribbons for bosom and head,
And their day goes over in idleness,
And they sigh if...Read more of this...

He Gives His Beloved Certain Rhymes

by William Butler Yeats
 Fasten your hair with a golden pin,
And bind up every wandering tress;
I bade my heart build these poor rhymes:
It worked at them, day out, day in,
Building a sorrowful loveliness
Out of the battles of old times.

You need but lift a pearl-pale hand,
And bind up your long hair and sigh;
And all men's hearts must burn and beat;
And candle-like foam on the...Read more of this...

The Story Of Our Lives

by Mark Strand
 1
We are reading the story of our lives
which takes place in a room.
The room looks out on a street.
There is no one there,
no sound of anything.
The tress are heavy with leaves,
the parked cars never move.
We keep turning the pages, hoping for something,
something like mercy or change,
a black line that would bind us
or keep us apart.
The way it is, it...Read more of this...

An Image From A Past Life

by William Butler Yeats
 He. Never until this night have I been stirred.
The elaborate starlight throws a reflection
On the dark stream,
Till all the eddies gleam;
And thereupon there comes that scream
From terrified, invisible beast or bird:
Image of poignant recollection.

She. An image of my heart that is smitten through
Out of all likelihood, or reason,
And when at last,
Youth's bitterness being past,
I had thought that all my...Read more of this...

The Sands of Dee

by Charles Kingsley
 1 "O Mary, go and call the cattle home,
2 And call the cattle home,
3 And call the cattle home
4 Across the sands of Dee";
5 The western wind was wild and dank with foam,
6 And all alone went she.

7 The western tide crept up along the sand,
8 And o'er and o'er the sand,
9 And round and round the sand,
10 As...Read more of this...

A Song of Pitcairns Island

by William Cullen Bryant
 Come, take our boy, and we will go
Before our cabin door;
The winds shall bring us, as they blow,
The murmurs of the shore;
And we will kiss his young blue eyes, 
And I will sing him, as he lies,
Songs that were made of yore:
I'll sing, in his delighted ear,
The island lays thou lov'st to hear.

And thou, while stammering I repeat,
Thy country's...Read more of this...

North Country

by Kenneth Slessor
 North Country, filled with gesturing wood, 
With trees that fence, like archers' volleys, 
The flanks of hidden valleys 
Where nothing's left to hide 

But verticals and perpendiculars, 
Like rain gone wooden, fixed in falling, 
Or fingers blindly feeling 
For what nobody cares; 

Or trunks of pewter, bangled by greedy death, 
Stuck with black staghorns, quietly sucking, 
And trees whose...Read more of this...

He, who the world's foundations erst did lay,

by Omar Khayyam
He, who the world's foundations erst did lay,
Doth bruise full many a bosom day by day,
And many a ruby lip and musky tress
Doth coffin in the earth, and shroud with clay....Read more of this...

The Last Leap

by Adam Lindsay Gordon
 ALL is over! fleet career, 
Dash of greyhound slipping thongs, 
Flight of falcon, bound of deer, 
Mad hoof-thunder in our rear, 
Cold air rushing up our lungs, 
Din of many tongues. 

Once again, one struggle good, 
One vain effort;—he must dwell 
Near the shifted post, that stood 
Where the splinters of the wood, 
Lying in the torn tracks, tell...Read more of this...

The Chapel in Lyonesse

by William Morris
 SIR OZANA.

All day long and every day,
From Christmas-Eve to Whit-Sunday,
Within that Chapel-aisle I lay,
And no man came a-near.

Naked to the waist was I,
And deep within my breast did lie,
Though no man any blood could spy,
The truncheon of a spear.

No meat did ever pass my lips
Those days. Alas! the sunlight slips
From off the gilded parclose, dips,
And night comes on apace.

My...Read more of this...

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