Famous Usher In Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Our Son

by Barry Tebb
 Quarter to three: I wake again at the hour of his birth

Thirty years ago and now he paces corridors of dark

In nightmares of self-condemnation where random thoughts

Besiege his fevered imagination – England’s 

Imminent destruction, his own, the world’s…

Sixty to eighty cigarettes a day, unavailing depot injections,

Failed abscondings, failed everything: Eton and Balliol

Hold no sway on ward one, nor even...Read more of this...

On that specific Pillow

by Emily Dickinson
 On that specific Pillow
Our projects flit away --
The Night's tremendous Morrow
And whether sleep will stay
Or usher us -- a stranger --
To situations new
The effort to comprise it
Is all the soul can do....Read more of this...

197. Song—The Banks of the Devon

by Robert Burns
 HOW pleasant the banks of the clear winding Devon,
 With green spreading bushes and flow’rs blooming fair!
But the boniest flow’r on the banks of the Devon
 Was once a sweet bud on the braes of the Ayr.
Mild be the sun on this sweet blushing flower,
 In the gay rosy morn, as it bathes in the dew;
And gentle the fall...Read more of this...

Signior Dildo

by John Wilmot
 You ladies of merry England
Who have been to kiss the Duchess's hand,
Pray, did you not lately observe in the show
A noble Italian called Signior *****?

This signior was one of the Duchess's train
And helped to conduct her over the main;
But now she cries out, 'To the Duke I will go,
I have no more need for Signior *****.'

At the Sign of...Read more of this...

Holy-Cross Day

by Robert Browning
 ON WHICH THE JEWS WERE FORCED TO
ATTEND AN ANNUAL CHRISTIAN SERMON
IN ROME.

[``Now was come about Holy-Cross Day,
and now must my lord preach his first sermon
to the Jews: as it was of old cared for in tine
merciful bowels of the Church, that, so to
speak, a crumb at least from her conspicuous
table here in Rome should be, though but
once yearly, cast...Read more of this...

Milton's Appeal To Cromwell

by Victor Hugo
 ("Non! je n'y puis tenir.") 
 
 {CROMWELL, Act III. sc. iv.} 


 Stay! I no longer can contain myself, 
 But cry you: Look on John, who bares his mind 
 To Oliver—to Cromwell, Milton speaks! 
 Despite a kindling eye and marvel deep 
 A voice is lifted up without your leave; 
 For I was never...Read more of this...

The Dream of Eugene Aram

by Thomas Hood
 'Twas in the prime of summer-time 
An evening calm and cool, 
And four-and-twenty happy boys 
Came bounding out of school: 
There were some that ran and some that leapt, 
Like troutlets in a pool.

Away they sped with gamesome minds, 
And souls untouched by sin; 
To a level mead they came, and there 
They drave the wickets in: 
Pleasantly shone...Read more of this...

Bobby Snooks

by Mother Goose
Little Bobby Snooks was fond of his books,
  And loved by his usher and master;
But naughty Jack Spry, he got a black eye,
  And carries his nose in a plaster....Read more of this...

Passing showers

by John Matthew
 Yesterday a passing, transient shower,
Slaked my thirst so gently, softly,
Showers in March are unheard —
In this arid part of the world.

They say the world is dying, I know,
I remember how you said love died,
It was a passing shower, a fancy,
That left you cold and shivering.

This distance, these wired networks,
Couldn’t bring your love to you,
You became strangers, distances apart,
The eyes,...Read more of this...

The duties of the Wind are few

by Emily Dickinson
 The duties of the Wind are few,
To cast the ships, at Sea,
Establish March, the Floods escort,
And usher Liberty.

The pleasures of the Wind are broad,
To dwell Extent among,
Remain, or wander,
Speculate, or Forests entertain.

The kinsmen of the Wind are Peaks
Azof -- the Equinox,
Also with Bird and Asteroid
A bowing intercourse.

The limitations of the Wind
Do he exist, or die,
Too wise he seems for...Read more of this...

Song From An Evenings Love

by John Dryden
 After the pangs of a desperate lover,
When day and night I have sighed all in vain,
Ah, what a pleasure it is to discover
In her eyes pity, who causes my pain!

When with unkindness our love at a stand is,
And both have punished ourselves with the pain,
Ah, what a pleasure the touch of her hand is!
Ah, what a pleasure to touch...Read more of this...

Paris

by Alan Seeger
 First, London, for its myriads; for its height, 
Manhattan heaped in towering stalagmite; 
But Paris for the smoothness of the paths 
That lead the heart unto the heart's delight. . . . 


Fair loiterer on the threshold of those days 
When there's no lovelier prize the world displays 
Than, having beauty and your twenty years, 
You have the means...Read more of this...

A Country Life:to His Brother Mr Thomas Herrick

by Robert Herrick
 Thrice, and above, blest, my soul's half, art thou,
In thy both last and better vow;
Could'st leave the city, for exchange, to see
The country's sweet simplicity;
And it to know and practise, with intent
To grow the sooner innocent;
By studying to know virtue, and to aim
More at her nature than her name;
The last is but the least; the first doth tell
Ways less...Read more of this...

Gods

by Walt Whitman
 1
THOUGHT of the Infinite—the All! 
Be thou my God. 

2
Lover Divine, and Perfect Comrade! 
Waiting, content, invisible yet, but certain, 
Be thou my God.

3
Thou—thou, the Ideal Man! 
Fair, able, beautiful, content, and loving, 
Complete in Body, and dilate in Spirit, 
Be thou my God. 

4
O Death—(for Life has served its turn;)
Opener and usher to the heavenly mansion! 
Be thou...Read more of this...

THE Complaint of a Lover

by Anne Killigrew
 SEest thou younder craggy Rock, 
 Whose Head o'er-looks the swelling Main, 
Where never Shepherd fed his Flock, 
 Or careful Peasant sow'd his Grain. 
No wholesome Herb grows on the same, 
 Or Bird of Day will on it rest;
'Tis Barren as the Hopeless Flame, 
 That scortches my tormented Breast. 

Deep underneath a Cave does lie, 
...Read more of this...

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