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Famous Type Poems by Famous Poets

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

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by Kipling, Rudyard
...die quietly. Some abound
 In loud self-pity. Others spread
Bad morale through the cots around .
 This is a type that is better dead.


"The war was forced on me by my foes.
 All that I sought was the right to live."
[Don't be afraid of a triple dose;
 The pain will neutralize all we give.


Here are the needles. See that he dies
 While the effects of the drug endure. . . .
What is the question he asks with his eyes?--
 Yes, All...Read more of this...



by Lehman, David
...re different.
In every minyan there are always two or three, hated by 
 the others, who give life to one ugly stereotype or another:
The grasping Jew with the hooked nose or the Ivy League Bolshevik
 who thinks he is the agent of world history.
But most of them are neither ostentatiously pious nor
 excessively avaricious.
How I envy them! They believe.
How I envy them their annual family reunion on Passover,
 anniversary of the Exodus, when all the uncles and ...Read more of this...

by Smart, Christopher
...hy science, whence reward
 And infinite degree; 
O strength, O sweetness, lasting ripe! 
God's harp thy symbol, and thy type 
 The lion and the bee! 

 XXXIX 
There is but One who ne'er rebell'd, 
But One by passion unimpell'd, 
 By pleasures unentic'd; 
He from Himself His semblance sent, 
Grand object of His own content, 
 And saw the God in CHRIST. 

 XL 
Tell them, I am, JEHOVAH said 
To MOSES; while earth heard in dread, 
 And, smitten to the heart, 
At once above, b...Read more of this...

by Shelley, Percy Bysshe
...stillness,
Thy dazzling waves, thy loud and hollow gulfs,
Thy searchless fountain and invisible course,
Have each their type in me; and the wide sky
And measureless ocean may declare as soon
What oozy cavern or what wandering cloud 
Contains thy waters, as the universe
Tell where these living thoughts reside, when stretched
Upon thy flowers my bloodless limbs shall waste
I' the passing wind!'

Beside the grassy shore
Of the small stream he went; he did impress
On the green mo...Read more of this...

by Browning, Robert
...ce, 
All Balzac's novels occupy one shelf, 
The new edition fifty volumes long; 
And little Greek books, with the funny type 
They get up well at Leipsic, fill the next: 
Go on! slabbed marble, what a bath it makes! 
And Parma's pride, the Jerome, let us add! 
'T were pleasant could Correggio's fleeting glow 
Hang full in face of one where'er one roams, 
Since he more than the others brings with him 
Italy's self,--the marvellous Modenese!-- 


Yet was not on your list before...Read more of this...



by Lanier, Sidney
...ge
And hottest thicket of the battling hedge.
Thou lustrous stalk, that ne'er mayst walk nor talk,
Still shalt thou type the poet-soul sublime
That leads the vanward of his timid time
And sings up cowards with commanding rhyme --
Soul calm, like thee, yet fain, like thee, to grow
By double increment, above, below;
Soul homely, as thou art, yet rich in grace like thee,
Teaching the yeomen selfless chivalry
That moves in gentle curves of courtesy;
Soul filled like thy long ...Read more of this...

by Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth
...for banners, ploughs for armor.

Judged by no o'erzealous rigor,
Much this mystic throng expresses:
Bacchus was the type of vigor,
And Silenus of excesses.

These are ancient ethnic revels,
Of a faith long since forsaken;
Now the Satyrs, changed to devils,
Frighten mortals wine-o'ertaken.

Now to rivulets from the mountains
Point the rods of fortune-tellers;
Youth perpetual dwells in fountains,--
Not in flasks, and casks, and cellars.

Claudius, though he sang...Read more of this...

by Eady, Cornelius
...Some folks will tell you the blues is a woman,
Some type of supernatural creature.
My mother would tell you, if she could,
About her life with my father,
A strange and sometimes cruel gentleman.
She would tell you about the choices
A young black woman faces.
Is falling in love with some man
A deal with the devil
In blue terms, the tongue we use
When we don't want nuance
To get in the way,
When we ...Read more of this...

by Emerson, Ralph Waldo
...glean and bind,
Of a celestial Ceres, and the Muse?

Ages are thy days,
Thou grand expressor of the present tense,
And type of permanence,
Firm ensign of the fatal Being,
Amid these coward shapes of joy and grief
That will not bide the seeing.
Hither we bring
Our insect miseries to the rocks,
And the whole flight with pestering wing
Vanish and end their murmuring,
Vanish beside these dedicated blocks,
Which, who can tell what mason laid?
Spoils of a front none need resto...Read more of this...

by Bukowski, Charles
...> FORCED IT ON HIM
when they should have left him alone so he could
write write WRITE!

poets.

and there's another
type. I've met them at their country
places (don't ask me what I was doing there because
I don't know).

they were born with money and
they don't have to dirty their hands in
slaughterhouses or washing
dishes in grease joints or
driving cabs or pimping or selling pot.

this gives them time to understand
Life.

they walk in with their cocktail...Read more of this...

by Milton, John
...that opprobrious hill, and made his grove 
The pleasant valley of Hinnom, Tophet thence 
And black Gehenna called, the type of Hell. 
Next Chemos, th' obscene dread of Moab's sons, 
From Aroar to Nebo and the wild 
Of southmost Abarim; in Hesebon 
And Horonaim, Seon's real, beyond 
The flowery dale of Sibma clad with vines, 
And Eleale to th' Asphaltic Pool: 
Peor his other name, when he enticed 
Israel in Sittim, on their march from Nile, 
To do him wanton rites, which ...Read more of this...

by Whitman, Walt
...strion, 
Down to the footlights walks, in some great scena, 
Dominating the rest, I see the Admiral himself,
(History’s type of courage, action, faith;) 
Behold him sail from Palos, leading his little fleet; 
His voyage behold—his return—his great fame, 
His misfortunes, calumniators—behold him a prisoner, chain’d, 
Behold his dejection, poverty, death.

(Curious, in time, I stand, noting the efforts of heroes; 
Is the deferment long? bitter the slander, poverty, death? 
...Read more of this...

by Whitman, Walt
...crude ores of California and Nevada passing on and on till they become
 bullion; 
You shall watch how the printer sets type, and learn what a composing stick is; 
You shall mark, in amazement, the Hoe press whirling its cylinders, shedding the printed
 leaves
 steady and fast: 
The photograph, model, watch, pin, nail, shall be created before you.

In large calm halls, a stately Museum shall teach you the infinite, solemn lessons of
 Minerals;

In another, woods, plants, ...Read more of this...

by Poe, Edgar Allan
...There are some qualities- some incorporate things,
That have a double life, which thus is made
A type of that twin entity which springs
From matter and light, evinced in solid and shade.
There is a two-fold Silence- sea and shore-
Body and soul. One dwells in lonely places,
Newly with grass o'ergrown; some solemn graces,
Some human memories and tearful lore,
Render him terrorless: his name's "No More."
He is the corporate Silence: dread him ...Read more of this...

by Lanier, Sidney
...eed,
Should thrill its joy and trill its fret,
And utter its heart in every deed,

"Then would this breathing clarionet
Type what the poet fain would be;
For none o' the singers ever yet
Has wholly lived his minstrelsy,

"Or clearly sung his true, true thought,
Or utterly bodied forth his life,
Or out of life and song has wrought
The perfect one of man and wife;

"Or lived and sung, that Life and Song
Might each express the other's all,
Careless if life or art were long
Since...Read more of this...

by Lewis, C S
...hus.

At some transitional stage, then, a luckless few, 
No doubt, must have had eyes after the up-to-date, 
Normal type had achieved snug
Darkness, safe from the guns of heavn;

Whose blind mouths would abuse words that belonged to their 
Great-grandsires, unabashed, talking of light in some 
Eunuch'd, etiolated,
Fungoid sense, as a symbol of

Abstract thoughts. If a man, one that had eyes, a poor 
Misfit, spoke of the grey dawn or the stars or green-
Sloped sea wave...Read more of this...

by Bukowski, Charles
...your body." 
I left town for 6 months, bummed around, came back. I had never forgotten Cass, but
we'd had some type of argument and I felt like moving anyhow, and when I got back i
figured she'd be gone, but I had been sitting in the West End Bar about 30 minutes when
she walked in and sat down next to me.
"Well, bastard, I see you've come back." 
I ordered her a drink. Then I looked at her. She had on a high- necked dress. I had
never seen her in...Read more of this...

by Tennyson, Alfred Lord
...owning race of humankind. 
May these things be!' 
Sighing she spoke 'I fear 
They will not.' 
'Dear, but let us type them now 
In our own lives, and this proud watchword rest 
Of equal; seeing either sex alone 
Is half itself, and in true marriage lies 
Nor equal, nor unequal: each fulfils 
Defect in each, and always thought in thought, 
Purpose in purpose, will in will, they grow, 
The single pure and perfect animal, 
The two-celled heart beating, with one full strok...Read more of this...

by Khayyam, Omar
...take that, and do not shrink. 

LVI.
And fear not lest Existence closing your
Account, should lose, or know the type no more;
The Eternal Saki from the Bowl has pour'd
Millions of Bubbls like us, and will pour. 

LVII.
When You and I behind the Veil are past,
Oh but the long long while the World shall last,
Which of our Coming and Departure heeds
As much as Ocean of a pebble-cast. 

LVIII.
'Tis all a Chequer-board of Nights and Days
Where Destiny with ...Read more of this...

by Herbert, George
...anna, Angels' food, I fed them all: 
Was ever grief like mine? 

They part my garments, and by lot dispose
My coat, the type of love, which once cur'd those
Who sought for help, never malicious foes: 
Was ever grief like mine? 

Nay, after death their spite shall further go; 
For they will pierce my side, I full well know; 
That as sin came, so Sacraments might flow: 
Was ever grief like mine? 

But now I die; now all is finished.
My woe, man's weal: and now I bow my head...Read more of this...

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