Famous Wearily Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Evening

by Friedrich von Schiller
 Oh! thou bright-beaming god, the plains are thirsting,
Thirsting for freshening dew, and man is pining;
Wearily move on thy horses--
Let, then, thy chariot descend!

Seest thou her who, from ocean's crystal billows,
Lovingly nods and smiles?--Thy heart must know her!
Joyously speed on thy horses,--
Tethys, the goddess, 'tis nods!

Swiftly from out his flaming chariot leaping,
Into her arms he springs,--the reins takes Cupid,--
Quietly stand...Read more of this...

The Boston Evening Transcript

by T S (Thomas Stearns) Eliot
 THE READERS of the Boston Evening Transcript
Sway in the wind like a field of ripe corn.

When evening quickens faintly in the street,
Wakening the appetites of life in some
And to others bringing the Boston Evening Transcript,
I mount the steps and ring the bell, turning
Wearily, as one would turn to nod good-bye to Rochefoucauld,
If the street were time and he at...Read more of this...

A Study

by Wang Wei
 Light cloud pavilion light rain
Dark yard day weary open
Sit look green moss colour
About to on person clothes come 

There's light cloud, and drizzle round the pavilion,
In the dark yard, I wearily open a gate.
I sit and look at the colour of green moss,
Ready for people's clothing to pick up....Read more of this...

Yesterday and Today XII

by Kahlil Gibran
 The gold-hoarder walked in his palace park and with him walked his troubles. And over his head hovered worries as a vulture hovers over a carcass, until he reached a beautiful lake surrounded by magnificent marble statuary. 

He sat there pondering the water which poured from the mouths of the statues like thoughts flowing freely from a lover's imagination,...Read more of this...

A Little Song

by Amy Lowell
 When you, my Dear, are away, away,
How wearily goes the creeping day.
A year drags after morning, and night
Starts another year of candle light.
O Pausing Sun and Lingering Moon!
Grant me, I beg of you, this boon.
Whirl round the earth as never sun
Has his diurnal journey run.
And, Moon, slip past the ladders of air
In a single flash, while your streaming hair
Catches...Read more of this...

Weary

by Robert William Service
 Some praise the Lord for Light,
 The living spark;
I thank God for the Night
 The healing dark.
When wearily I lie,
 With aching sight,
With what thanksgiving I
 Turn out the light!

When to night's drowsy deep
 Serene I sink,
How glad am I to sleep,
 To cease to think!
From care and fret set free,
 In sweet respite,
With joy I peacefully
 Turn out...Read more of this...

The Law Of The Yukon

by Robert William Service
 This is the law of the Yukon, and ever she makes it plain:
"Send not your foolish and feeble; send me your strong and your sane --
Strong for the red rage of battle; sane for I harry them sore;
Send me men girt for the combat, men who are grit to the core;
Swift as the panther in triumph, fierce as the...Read more of this...

Five Bells

by Kenneth Slessor
 Time that is moved by little fidget wheels 
Is not my time, the flood that does not flow. 
Between the double and the single bell 
Of a ship's hour, between a round of bells 
From the dark warship riding there below, 
I have lived many lives, and this one life 
Of Joe, long dead, who lives between five bells....Read more of this...

Tar

by C K Williams
 The first morning of Three Mile Island: those first disquieting, uncertain, 
mystifying hours.
All morning a crew of workmen have been tearing the old decrepit roof
off our building,
and all morning, trying to distract myself, I've been wandering out to 
watch them
as they hack away the leaden layers of asbestos paper and disassemble 
the disintegrating drains.
After half a night of listening...Read more of this...

Remembered

by Paul Laurence Dunbar
She sang, and I listened the whole song thro'.
(It was sweet, so sweet, the singing.)
The stars were out and the moon it grew
From a wee soft glimmer way out in the blue
To a bird thro' the heavens winging.
She sang, and the song trembled down to my breast,—
(It was sweet, so sweet the singing.)
As a dove just out of its fledgling...Read more of this...

The Last Of The Flock

by William Wordsworth
  In distant countries I have been,  And yet I have not often seen  A healthy man, a man full grown,  Weep in the public roads alone.  But such a one, on English ground,  And in the broad high-way, I met;  Along the broad high-way he came,  His cheeks with tears were wet.  Sturdy he seemed, though he was sad;  And in his arms a lamb he had.   He saw...Read more of this...

The Road to Avignon

by Amy Lowell
 A Minstrel stands on a marble stair,
Blown by the bright wind, debonair;
Below lies the sea, a sapphire floor,
Above on the terrace a turret door
Frames a lady, listless and wan,
But fair for the eye to rest upon.
The minstrel plucks at his silver strings,
And looking up to the lady, sings: --
Down the road to Avignon,
The long, long road to Avignon,
Across the...Read more of this...

Tortoise Family Connections

by D. H. Lawrence
 On he goes, the little one,
Bud of the universe,
Pediment of life.
Setting off somewhere, apparently.
Whither away, brisk egg?

His mother deposited him on the soil as if he were no more than droppings,
And now he scuffles tinily past her as if she were an old rusty tin.

A mere obstacle,
He veers round the slow great mound of her --
Tortoises always foresee obstacles.

It...Read more of this...

Croquis

by William Ernest Henley
 The beach was crowded. Pausing now and then,
He groped and fiddled doggedly along,
His worn face glaring on the thoughtless throng
The stony peevishness of sightless men.
He seemed scarce older than his clothes. Again,
Grotesquing thinly many an old sweet song,
So cracked his fiddle, his hand so frail and wrong,
You hardly could distinguish one in ten.
He stopped at last, and sat him...Read more of this...

Song of the Soldiers Wifes

by Thomas Hardy
 I 

At last! In sight of home again, 
Of home again; 
No more to range and roam again 
As at that bygone time? 
No more to go away from us 
And stay from us? - 
Dawn, hold not long the day from us, 
But quicken it to prime! 

II 

Now all the town shall ring to them, 
Shall ring...Read more of this...

The Song Of The Mouth-Organ

by Robert William Service
 (With apologies to the singer of the "Song of the Banjo".)


I'm a homely little bit of tin and bone;
 I'm beloved by the Legion of the Lost;
I haven't got a "vox humana" tone,
 And a dime or two will satisfy my cost.
I don't attempt your high-falutin' flights;
 I am more or less uncertain on the key;
But I tell you,...Read more of this...

A Good Knight In Prison

by William Morris
 Wearily, drearily,
Half the day long,
Flap the great banners
High over the stone;
Strangely and eerily
Sounds the wind's song,
Bending the banner-poles.

While, all alone,
Watching the loophole's spark,
Lie I, with life all dark,
Feet tether'd, hands fetter'd
Fast to the stone,
The grim walls, square-letter'd
With prison'd men's groan.

Still strain the banner-poles
Through the wind's song,
Westward the banner rolls
Over my wrong....Read more of this...

Sea Song

by Adela Florence Cory Nicolson
   Sad is the Evening: all the level sand
     Lies left and lonely, while the restless sea,
   Tired of the green caresses of the land,
     Withdraws into its own infinity.

   But still more sad this white and chilly Dawn
     Filling the vacant...Read more of this...

The Dead-Beat

by Wilfred Owen
 He dropped, -- more sullenly than wearily,
Lay stupid like a cod, heavy like meat,
And none of us could kick him to his feet;
Just blinked at my revolver, blearily;
-- Didn't appear to know a war was on,
Or see the blasted trench at which he stared.
"I'll do 'em in," he whined, "If this hand's spared,
I'll murder them, I will."

 A low...Read more of this...

The Ballad Of Salvation Bill

by Robert William Service
 'Twas in the bleary middle of the hard-boiled Arctic night,
I was lonesome as a loon, so if you can,
Imagine my emotions of amazement and delight
When I bumped into that Missionary Man.
He was lying lost and dying in the moon's unholy leer,
And frozen from his toes to finger-tips'
The famished wolf-pack ringed him; but he didn't seem to fear,
As he pressed...Read more of this...

Under the Stars

by Fannie Isabelle Sherrick
Under the stars, when the shadows fall,
  Under the stars of night;
What is so fair as the jeweled crown
Of the azure skies, when the sun is down,
  Beautiful stars of light!
Under the stars, where the daisies lie
  Lifeless beneath the snow;
Lovely and pure, they have lived a day,
Silently passing forever away,
  Lying so meek and low.
Under...Read more of this...

Pine-Trees and the Sky: Evening

by Rupert Brooke
 I'd watched the sorrow of the evening sky,
And smelt the sea, and earth, and the warm clover,
And heard the waves, and the seagull's mocking cry. 

And in them all was only the old cry,
That song they always sing -- "The best is over!
You may remember now, and think, and sigh,
O silly lover!"
And I was tired and sick that all...Read more of this...

The Alien Boy

by Mary Darby Robinson
 'Twas on a Mountain, near the Western Main
An ALIEN dwelt. A solitary Hut
Built on a jutting crag, o'erhung with weeds,
Mark'd the poor Exile's home. Full ten long years
The melancholy wretch had liv'd unseen
By all, save HENRY, a lov'd, little Son
The partner of his sorrows. On the day
When Persecution, in the sainted guise
Of Liberty, spread wide its venom'd pow'r,
The brave,...Read more of this...

Retired Shopman

by Robert William Service
 He had the grocer's counter-stoop,
That little man so grey and neat;
His moustache had a doleful droop,
He hailed me in the slushy street.
"I've sold my shop," he said to me,
Cupping his hand behind his ear.
"My deafness got so bad, you see,
Folks had to shout to make me hear."

He sighed and sadly shook his head;
The hand he gave was chill as...Read more of this...

Panthea

by Oscar Wilde
 Nay, let us walk from fire unto fire,
From passionate pain to deadlier delight, -
I am too young to live without desire,
Too young art thou to waste this summer night
Asking those idle questions which of old
Man sought of seer and oracle, and no reply was told.

For, sweet, to feel is better than to know,
And wisdom is a childless heritage,
One pulse...Read more of this...

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