Famous Ware Poems by Famous Poets

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

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There was an old person of Ware

by Edward Lear
There was an old person of Ware,Who rode on the back of a bear;When they ask'd, "Does it trot?" he said, "Certainly not!He's a Moppsikon Floppsikon bear!" ...Read more of this...

Saadi

by Ralph Waldo Emerson
 Trees in groves,
Kine in droves,
In ocean sport the scaly herds,
Wedge-like cleave the air the birds,
To northern lakes fly wind-borne ducks,
Browse the mountain sheep in flocks,
Men consort in camp and town,
But the poet dwells alone.

God who gave to him the lyre,
Of all mortals the desire,
For all breathing men's behoof,
Straitly charged him, "Sit aloof;"
Annexed a warning, poets say,
To the bright premium,—
Ever...Read more of this...

551. Ballad on Mr. Heron's Election—No. 4

by Robert Burns
 WHA will buy my troggin, fine election ware,
Broken trade o’ Broughton, a’ in high repair?


Chorus.—Buy braw troggin frae the banks o’ Dee;
Wha wants troggin let him come to me.


There’s a noble Earl’s fame and high renown,
For an auld sang—it’s thought the gudes were stown—
 Buy braw troggin, &c.


Here’s the worth o’ Broughton in a needle’s e’e;
Here’s a reputation tint...Read more of this...

Sonnet 01 - I thought once how Theocritus had sung

by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
 I thought once how Theocritus had sung
Of the sweet years, the dear and wished-for years,
Who each one in a gracious hand appears
To bear a gift for mortals, old or young:
And, as I mused it in his antique tongue,
I saw, in gradual vision through my tears,
The sweet, sad years, the melancholy years,
Those of my own life, who by turns had...Read more of this...

Hero and Leander: The First Sestiad

by Christopher Marlowe
 1 On Hellespont, guilty of true love's blood,
2 In view and opposite two cities stood,
3 Sea-borderers, disjoin'd by Neptune's might;
4 The one Abydos, the other Sestos hight.
5 At Sestos Hero dwelt; Hero the fair,
6 Whom young Apollo courted for her hair,
7 And offer'd as a dower his burning throne,
8 Where she could sit for men to gaze upon.
9 The...Read more of this...

MacDougal Street

by Edna St. Vincent Millay
 AS I went walking up and down to take the evening air,
(Sweet to meet upon the street, why must I be so shy?)
I saw him lay his hand upon her torn black hair;
("Little dirty Latin child, let the lady by!")

The women squatting on the stoops were slovenly and fat,
(Lay me out in organdie, lay me out in lawn!)
And everywhere...Read more of this...

The Old Issue

by Rudyard Kipling
 Here is nothing new nor aught unproven," say the Trumpets,
 "Many feet have worn it and the road is old indeed.
"It is the King--the King we schooled aforetime! "
 (Trumpets in the marshes-in the eyot at Runnymede!)

"Here is neither haste, nor hate, nor anger," peal the Trumpets,
 "Pardon for his penitence or pity for his fall.
"It is the King!"--inexorable...Read more of this...

41. Epistle to John Rankine

by Robert Burns
 O ROUGH, rude, ready-witted Rankine,
The wale o’ cocks for fun an’ drinkin!
There’s mony godly folks are thinkin,
 Your dreams and tricks
Will send you, Korah-like, a-sinkin
 Straught to auld Nick’s.


Ye hae saw mony cracks an’ cants,
And in your wicked, drucken rants,
Ye mak a devil o’ the saunts,
 An’ fill them fou;
And then their failings, flaws, an’ wants,
 Are a’ seen...Read more of this...

Astrophel and Stella: XCII

by Sir Philip Sidney
 Be your words made, good sir, of Indian ware,
That you allow me them by so small rate?
Or do you cutted Spartans imitate?
Or do you mean my tender ears to spare,
That to my questions you so total are?
When I demand of Phœnix Stella's state,
You say, forsooth, you left her well of late:
O God, think you that satisfies my care?
I would...Read more of this...

A Red, Red Rose

by Robert Burns
O, my Luve's like a red, red rose,
That's newly sprung in June.
O, my Luve's like a melodie
That's sweetly play'd in tune.

As fair as thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I;
And I will love thee still, my dear,
Till a' the seas gang dry.

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi' the sun:
I will love thess...Read more of this...

Sonnet IX

by Alan Seeger
 Amid the florid multitude her face 
Was like the full moon seen behind the lace 
Of orchard boughs where clouded blossoms part 
When Spring shines in the world and in the heart. 
As the full-moon-beams to the ferny floor 
Of summer woods through flower and foliage pour, 
So to my being's innermost recess 
Flooded the light of so much...Read more of this...

Reveille

by A E Housman
 Wake: the silver dusk returning
Up the beach of darkness brims,
And the ship of sunrise burning
Strands upon the eastern rims.

Wake: the vaulted shadow shatters,
Trampled to the floor it spanned,
And the tent of night in tatters
Straws the sky-pavilioned land.

Up, lad, up, 'tis late for lying:
Hear the drums of morning play;
Hark, the empty highways crying
"Who'll beyond the hills away?"

Towns and countries woo...Read more of this...

The Bell Buoy

by Rudyard Kipling
 1896
They christened my brother of old--
 And a saintly name he bears--
They gave him his place to hold
 At the head of the belfry-stairs,
 Where the minister-towers stand
And the breeding kestrels cry.
 Would I change with my brother a league inland?
(Shoal! 'Ware shoal!) Not I!

In the flush of the hot June prime,
 O'ersleek flood-tides afire,
I hear him hurry the...Read more of this...

Doubts

by Rupert Brooke
 When she sleeps, her soul, I know,
Goes a wanderer on the air,
Wings where I may never go,
Leaves her lying, still and fair,
Waiting, empty, laid aside,
Like a dress upon a chair. . . .
This I know, and yet I know
Doubts that will not be denied.

For if the soul be not in place,
What has laid trouble in her face?
And, sits there...Read more of this...

The Character Of Holland

by Andrew Marvell
 Holland, that scarce deserves the name of Land,
As but th'Off-scouring of the Brittish Sand;
And so much Earth as was contributed
By English Pilots when they heav'd the Lead;
Or what by th' Oceans slow alluvion fell,
Of shipwrackt Cockle and the Muscle-shell;
This indigested vomit of the Sea
Fell to the Dutch by just Propriety.
Glad then, as Miners that have found the Oar,
They with...Read more of this...

Living Remembrance

by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
 HALF vex'd, half pleased, thy love will feel,
Shouldst thou her knot or ribbon steal;
To thee they're much--I won't conceal;

Such self-deceit may pardon'd be;
A veil, a kerchief, garter, rings,
In truth are no mean trifling things,

But still they're not enough for me.

She who is dearest to my heart,
Gave me, with well dissembled smart,
Of her own life, a living part,

No charm in...Read more of this...

The discreet collector

by Eugene Field
 Down south there is a curio-shop
Unknown to many men;
Thereat do I intend to stop
When I am south again;
The narrow street through which to go--
Aha! I know it well!
And may be you would like to know--
But no--I will not tell!

'T is there to find the loveliest plates
(The bluest of the blue!)
At such surprisingly low rates
You'd not believe it true!
And there...Read more of this...

Cargoes

by John Masefield
 QUINQUIREME of Nineveh from distant Ophir, 
Rowing home to haven in sunny Palestine, 
With a cargo of ivory, 
And apes and peacocks, 
Sandalwood, cedarwood, and sweet white wine. 

Stately Spanish galleon coming from the Isthmus, 
Dipping through the Tropics by the palm-green shores, 
With a cargo of diamonds, 
Emeralds, amythysts, 
Topazes, and cinnamon, and gold moidores. 

Dirty British coaster...Read more of this...

The Cooks Tale

by Geoffrey Chaucer
 THE PROLOGUE.


THE Cook of London, while the Reeve thus spake,
For joy he laugh'd and clapp'd him on the back:
"Aha!" quoth he, "for Christes passion,
This Miller had a sharp conclusion,
Upon this argument of herbergage.* *lodging
Well saide Solomon in his language,
Bring thou not every man into thine house,
For harbouring by night is perilous.
*Well ought a man avised for to be* *a...Read more of this...

A Grammarians Funeral

by Robert Browning
 SHORTLY AFTER THE REVIVAL OF
LEARNING IN EUROPE.

Let us begin and carry up this corpse,
Singing together.
Leave we the common crofts, the vulgar thorpes
Each in its tether
Sleeping safe on the bosom of the plain,
Cared-for till cock-crow:
Look out if yonder be not day again
Rimming the rock-row!
That's the appropriate country; there, man's thought,
Rarer, intenser,
Self-gathered for an outbreak, as it ought,
Chafes in the censer.
Leave...Read more of this...

295. Epistle to Dr. Blacklock

by Robert Burns
 ELLISLAND, 21st Oct., 1789.WOW, but your letter made me vauntie!
And are ye hale, and weel and cantie?
I ken’d it still, your wee bit jauntie
 Wad bring ye to:
Lord send you aye as weel’s I want ye!
 And then ye’ll do.


The ill-thief blaw the Heron south!
And never drink be near his drouth!
He tauld myself by word o’ mouth,
 He’d tak...Read more of this...

Sonnets from the Portuguese i

by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
I THOUGHT once how Theocritus had sung 
Of the sweet years the dear and wish'd-for years  
Who each one in a gracious hand appears 
To bear a gift for mortals old or young: 
And as I mused it in his antique tongue 5 
I saw in gradual vision through my tears 
The sweet sad years the melancholy years¡ª 
Those...Read more of this...

A Terre

by Wilfred Owen
 (Being the philosophy of many Soldiers.)


Sit on the bed; I'm blind, and three parts shell,
Be careful; can't shake hands now; never shall.
Both arms have mutinied against me -- brutes.
My fingers fidget like ten idle brats.

I tried to peg out soldierly -- no use!
One dies of war like any old disease.
This bandage feels like pennies on my eyes.
I have my...Read more of this...

The Ballad Of The Drover

by Henry Lawson
 Across the stony ridges,
Across the rolling plain,
Young Harry Dale, the drover,
Comes riding home again.
And well his stock-horse bears him,
And light of heart is he,
And stoutly his old pack-horse
Is trotting by his knee. 

Up Queensland way with cattle
He travelled regions vast;
And many months have vanished
Since home-folk saw him last.
He hums a song of someone
He hopes to marry soon;
And hobble-chains and...Read more of this...

Under The Waterfall

by Thomas Hardy
 'Whenever I plunge my arm, like this, 
In a basin of water, I never miss 
The sweet sharp sense of a fugitive day 
Fetched back from its thickening shroud of gray. 
Hence the only prime 
And real love-rhyme 
That I know by heart, 
And that leaves no smart, 
Is the purl of a little valley fall 
About three spans...Read more of this...

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