Famous Verses Poems by Famous Poets

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

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When He Would Have His Verses Read

by Robert Herrick
 In sober mornings, do not thou rehearse
The holy incantation of a verse;
But when that men have both well drunk, and fed,
Let my enchantments then be sung or read.
When laurel spirts i' th' fire, and when the hearth
Smiles to itself, and gilds the roof with mirth;
When up the Thyrse is raised, and when the sound
Of sacred orgies, flies A round,...Read more of this...

Here Follows Some Verses upon the Burning of Our House

by Anne Bradstreet
 In silent night when rest I took
For sorrow near I did not look
I waked was with thund'ring noise
And piteous shrieks of dreadful voice.
That fearful sound of "Fire!" and "Fire!"
Let no man know is my desire.
I, starting up, the light did spy,
And to my God my heart did cry
To strengthen me in my distress
And not to leave me succorless.
Then, coming...Read more of this...

Introductory Verses

by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
 Oh, you who read some song that I have sung –
What know you of the soul from whence it sprung? 

Dost dream the poet ever speaks aloud
His secret thought unto the listening crowd? 

Go take the murmuring sea-shell from the shore-
You have its shape, its colour – and no more.

It tells not one of those vast mysteries
That lie beneath...Read more of this...

A Supplement of an Imperfect Copy of Verses of Mr. William

by Sir John Suckling
 One of her hands one of her cheeks lay under,
Cosening the pillow of a lawful kiss,
Which therefore swell'd, and seem'd to part asunder,
As angry to be robb'd of such a bliss!
The one look'd pale and for revenge did long,
While t'other blush'd, 'cause it had done the wrong.

Out of the bed the other fair hand was
On a green satin quilt,...Read more of this...

Once I was sailing for fun (Simple Verses XII)

by José Martí
Once I was sailing for fun
On a lake of great allure,
Like gold the sun shone so pure,
And my soul more than the sun.

Then suddenly I could smell 
Before I saw at my feet,
A foul fish, with death replete, 
At the bottom of the well
...Read more of this...

Verses on Sir Joshua Reynolds Painted Window at New College Oxford

by Thomas Warton
 Ah, stay thy treacherous hand, forbear to trace
Those faultless forms of elegance and grace!
Ah, cease to spread the bright transparent mass,
With Titian's pencil, o'er the speaking glass!
Nor steal, by strokes of art with truth combin'd,
The fond illusions of my wayward mind!
For long, enamour'd of a barbarous age,
A faithless truant to the classic page;
Long have I lov'd to catch the...Read more of this...

183. Verses Written with a Pencil at the Inn at Kenmore

by Robert Burns
 ADMIRING Nature in her wildest grace,
These northern scenes with weary feet I trace;
O’er many a winding dale and painful steep,
Th’ abodes of covey’d grouse and timid sheep,
My savage journey, curious, I pursue,
Till fam’d Breadalbane opens to my view.—
The meeting cliffs each deep-sunk glen divides,
The woods wild scatter’d, clothe their ample sides;
Th’ outstretching lake, imbosomed ’mong the hills,
The eye with...Read more of this...

Verses: Faiz Ulla

by Adela Florence Cory Nicolson
   Just in the hush before dawn
   A little wistful wind is born.
   A little chilly errant breeze,
   That thrills the grasses, stirs the trees.
   And, as it wanders on its way,
   While yet the night is cool and dark,
   The first carol of the lark,—
...Read more of this...

Verses

by Adela Florence Cory Nicolson
   You are my God, and I would fain adore You
     With sweet and secret rites of other days.
   Burn scented oil in silver lamps before You,
     Pour perfume on Your feet with prayer and praise.

   Yet are we one; Your gracious condescension
   ...Read more of this...

309. Verses on Captain Grose

by Robert Burns
 KEN ye aught o’ Captain Grose?—Igo, and ago,
If he’s amang his friends or foes?—Iram, coram, dago.


Is he to Abra’m’s bosom gane?—Igo, and ago,
Or haudin Sarah by the wame?—Iram, coram dago.


Is he south or is he north?—Igo, and ago,
Or drowned in the river Forth?—Iram, coram dago.


Is he slain by Hielan’ bodies?—Igo, and ago,
And eaten like a wether haggis?—Iram, coram, dago.


Where’er...Read more of this...

329. Verses on the destruction of the Woods near Drumlanrig

by Robert Burns
 AS on the banks o’ wandering Nith,
 Ae smiling simmer morn I stray’d,
And traced its bonie howes and haughs,
 Where linties sang and lammies play’d,
I sat me down upon a craig,
 And drank my fill o’ fancy’s dream,
When from the eddying deep below,
 Up rose the genius of the stream.


Dark, like the frowning rock, his brow,
 And troubled, like...Read more of this...

The Golden Verses of Pythagoras

by Pythagoras
1. First worship the Immortal Gods, as they are established and ordained by the Law.
2. Reverence the Oath, and next the Heroes, full of goodness and light.
3. Honour likewise the Terrestrial Daemons by rendering them the worship lawfully due to them.
4. Honour likewise your parents, and those most nearly related to you.
5. Of all the rest of mankind, make him...Read more of this...

189. Verses on Castle Gordon

by Robert Burns
 STREAMS that glide in orient plains,
Never bound by Winter’s chains;
 Glowing here on golden sands,
There immix’d with foulest stains
 From Tyranny’s empurpled hands;
These, their richly gleaming waves,
I leave to tyrants and their slaves;
Give me the stream that sweetly laves
 The banks by Castle Gordon.


Spicy forests, ever gray,
Shading from the burning ray
 Hapless wretches sold to toil;
Or the ruthless native’s...Read more of this...

To His Verses

by Robert Herrick
 What will ye, my poor orphans, do,
When I must leave the world and you;
Who'll give ye then a sheltering shed,
Or credit ye, when I am dead?
Who'll let ye by their fire sit,
Although ye have a stock of wit,
Already coin'd to pay for it?
--I cannot tell: unless there be
Some race of old humanity
Left, of the large heart and long hand,
Alive,...Read more of this...

Verses upon the Burning of our House July 18th

by Anne Bradstreet
 In silent night when rest I took,
For sorrow near I did not look,
I waken'd was with thund'ring noise
And piteous shrieks of dreadful voice.
That fearful sound of 'fire' and 'fire,'
Let no man know is my Desire.
I starting up, the light did spy,
And to my God my heart did cry
To straighten me in my Distress
And not to leave me succourless.
Then coming...Read more of this...

Memorial Verses

by Matthew Arnold
 Goethe in Weimar sleeps, and Greece,
Long since, saw Byron's struggle cease.
But one such death remain'd to come;
The last poetic voice is dumb--
We stand to-day by Wordsworth's tomb.

When Byron's eyes were shut in death,
We bow'd our head and held our breath.
He taught us little; but our soul
Had felt him like the thunder's roll.
With shivering heart the strife we saw 
Of...Read more of this...

156. Verses inscribed under a Noble Earl's Picture

by Robert Burns
 WHOSE 1 is that noble, dauntless brow?
 And whose that eye of fire?
And whose that generous princely mien,
 E’en rooted foes admire?


Stranger! to justly show that brow,
 And mark that eye of fire,
Would take His hand, whose vernal tints
 His other works admire.


Bright as a cloudless summer sun,
 With stately port he moves;
His guardian Seraph eyes with awe
 The...Read more of this...

VERSES Occasioned by a Young Ladys asking the Author What was a Cure for Love?

by Thomas Godfrey
 From me, my Dear, O seek not to receive
What e'en deep-read Experience cannot give.
We may, indeed, from the Physician's skill
Some Med'cine find to cure the body's ill.
But who e'er found the physic for the soul,
Or made th' affections bend to his controul?
When thro' the blaze of passion objects show
How dark 's the shade! how bright the colours glow!
All the...Read more of this...

TO My Lord Colrane In Answer to his Complemental Verses sent me under the Name of CLEANOR

by Anne Killigrew
 LOng my dull Muse in heavy slumbers lay, 
Indulging Sloth, and to soft Ease gave way, 
Her Fill of Rest resolving to enjoy, 
Or fancying little worthy her employ. 
When Noble Cleanors obliging Strains
Her, the neglected Lyre to tune, constrains. 
Confus'd at first, she rais'd her drowsie Head, 
Ponder'd a while, then pleas'd, forsook her Bed. 
Survey'd each Line...Read more of this...

255. Verses to Miss Cruickshank

by Robert Burns
 BEAUTEOUS Rosebud, young and gay,
Blooming in thy early May,
Never may’st thou, lovely flower,
Chilly shrink in sleety shower!
Never Boreas’ hoary path,
Never Eurus’ pois’nous breath,
Never baleful stellar lights,
Taint thee with untimely blights!
Never, never reptile thief
Riot on thy virgin leaf!
Nor even Sol too fiercely view
Thy bosom blushing still with dew!


 May’st thou long, sweet crimson gem,
Richly deck thy native stem;
Till some ev’ning,...Read more of this...

A Watch Sent Home To Mrs. Eliz: King Wrapt In Theis Verses

by William Strode
 Goe and count her better houres;
They more happie are than ours.
The day that gives her any blisse
Make it as long againe as tis:
The houre shee smiles in lett it bee
By thy art increas'd to three:
But if shee frowne on thee or mee
Know night is made by her not thee:
Bee swift in such an houre, and soon
Make it night though...Read more of this...

Upon the saying that my VERSES were made by another

by Anne Killigrew
 NExt Heaven my Vows to thee (O Sacred Muse! ) 
I offer'd up, nor didst thou them refuse. 
 O Queen of Verse, said I, if thou'lt inspire, 
And warm my Soul with thy Poetique Fire, 
No Love of Gold shall share with thee my Heart, 
Or yet Ambition in my Brest have Part, 
More Rich, more Noble I...Read more of this...

Verses Turned..

by John Betjeman
 Across the wet November night
The church is bright with candlelight
And waiting Evensong.
A single bell with plaintive strokes
Pleads louder than the stirring oaks
The leafless lanes along.

It calls the hoirboys from their tea
And villagers, the two or three,
Damp down the kitchen fire,
Let out the cat, and up the lane
Go paddling through the gentle rain
Of misty Oxfordshire.

How warm the many candles shine
Of...Read more of this...

Envoy For A Childs Garden Of Verses

by Robert Louis Stevenson
 WHETHER upon the garden seat
You lounge with your uplifted feet
Under the May's whole Heaven of blue;
Or whether on the sofa you,
No grown up person being by,
Do some soft corner occupy;
Take you this volume in your hands
And enter into other lands,
For lo! (as children feign) suppose
You, hunting in the garden rows,
Or in the lumbered attic, or
The cellar - a nail-studded...Read more of this...

To Her Father with Some Verses

by Anne Bradstreet
 Most truly honoured, and as truly dear, 
If worth in me or ought I do appear, 
Who can of right better demand the same 
Than may your worthy self from whom it came? 
The principal might yield a greater sum, 
Yet handled ill, amounts but to this crumb; 
My stock's so small I know not how to pay, 
My...Read more of this...

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