Famous Wept Poems by Famous Poets

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

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By the Rivers of Babylon We Sat Down and Wept

by George (Lord) Byron
 We sat down and wept by the waters 
Of Babel, and thought of the day 
When our foe, in the hue of his slaughters, 
Made Salem's high places his prey; 
And ye, oh her desolate daughters! 
Were scattered all weeping away. 

While sadly we gazed on the river 
Which rolled on in freedom below, 
They demanded the song; but,...Read more of this...

Hiawathas Childhood

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
 Downward through the evening twilight, 
In the days that are forgotten, 
In the unremembered ages, 
From the full moon fell Nokomis, 
Fell the beautiful Nokomis, 
She a wife, but not a mother.
She was sporting with her women, 
Swinging in a swing of grape-vines, 
When her rival the rejected, 
Full of jealousy and hatred, 
Cut the leafy swing asunder, 
Cut...Read more of this...

Hymn To Death

by William Cullen Bryant
 Oh! could I hope the wise and pure in heart
Might hear my song without a frown, nor deem
My voice unworthy of the theme it tries,--
I would take up the hymn to Death, and say
To the grim power, The world hath slandered thee
And mocked thee. On thy dim and shadowy brow
They place an iron crown, and call thee king
Of terrors,...Read more of this...

For the Poor

by William Cowper
 When Hagar found the bottle spent
And wept o'er Ishmael,
A message from the Lord was sent
To guide her to a well.

Should not Elijah's cake and cruse
Convince us at this day,
A gracious God will not refuse
Provisions by the way?

His saints and servants shall be fed,
The promise is secure;
"Bread shall be given them," as He said,
"Their water shall be sure."

Repasts far richer...Read more of this...

The Dream

by Louise Bogan
 O God, in the dream the terrible horse began
To paw at the air, and make for me with his blows,
Fear kept for thirty-five years poured through his mane,
And retribution equally old, or nearly, breathed through his nose. 

Coward complete, I lay and wept on the ground
When some strong creature appeared, and leapt for the rein.
Another woman, as I lay...Read more of this...

Lucy Gray

by William Wordsworth
Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray:
And, when I crossed the wild,
I chanced to see at break of day
The solitary child.

No mate, no comrade Lucy knew;
She dwelt on a wide moor,
--The sweetest thing that ever grew
Beside a human door!

You yet may spy the fawn at play,
The hare upon the green;
But the sweet face of Lucy Gray
Will never more be seen.

"To-night...Read more of this...

The Shepherds Dog

by Mary Darby Robinson
 I.

A Shepherd's Dog there was; and he
Was faithful to his master's will,
For well he lov'd his company,
Along the plain or up the hill;
All Seasons were, to him, the same
Beneath the Sun's meridian flame;
Or, when the wintry wind blew shrill and keen,
Still the Old Shepherd's Dog, was with his Master seen.


II. 

His form was shaggy clothed; yet he
Was of a...Read more of this...

The drop wept for his severance from the sea,

by Omar Khayyam
The drop wept for his severance from the sea,
But the sea smiled, for «I am all,» said he,
«The Truth is all, nothing exists beside,
That one point circling apes plurality.»...Read more of this...

Fit the Fifth ( Hunting of the Snark )

by Lewis Carroll
 The Beaver's Lesson 

They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care; 
They pursued it with forks and hope; 
They threatened its life with a railway-share; 
They charmed it with smiles and soap. 

Then the Butcher contrived an ingenious plan 
For making a separate sally; 
And fixed on a spot unfrequented by man, 
A dismal and desolate valley....Read more of this...

The Mares Nest

by Rudyard Kipling
 Jane Austen Beecher Stowe de Rouse
 Was good beyond all earthly need;
But, on the other hand, her spouse
 Was very, very bad indeed.
He smoked cigars, called churches slow,
And raced -- but this she did not know.

For Belial Machiavelli kept
 The little fact a secret, and,
Though o'er his minor sins she wept,
 Jane Austen did not understand
That Lilly -- thirteen-two...Read more of this...

Trilogy of Passion: I. TO WERTHER

by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
 [This poem, written at the age of seventy-five, was appended to
an edition of 'Werther,' published at that time.]

ONCE more, then, much-wept shadow, thou dost dare

 Boldly to face the day's clear light,
To meet me on fresh blooming meadows fair,

 And dost not tremble at my sight.
Those happy times appear return'd once more.

 When on one field we quaff'd refreshing...Read more of this...

Favrile

by Mark Doty
 Glassmakers,
at century's end,
compounded metallic lusters

in reference
to natural sheens (dragonfly
and beetle wings,

marbled light on kerosene)
and invented names
as coolly lustrous

as their products'
scarab-gleam: Quetzal,
Aurene, Favrile.

Suggesting,
respectively, the glaze
of feathers,

that sun-shot fog
of which halos
are composed,

and -- what?
What to make of Favrile,
Tiffany's term

for his coppery-rose
flushed with gold
like the alchemized

atmosphere of sunbeams
in a Flemish room?
Faux Moorish,

fake Japanese,
his lamps illumine
chiefly themselves,

copying waterlilies'
bronzy stems,
wisteria or trout scales;

surfaces burnished
like...Read more of this...

Melancholetta

by Lewis Carroll
 With saddest music all day long
She soothed her secret sorrow:
At night she sighed "I fear 'twas wrong
Such cheerful words to borrow.
Dearest, a sweeter, sadder song
I'll sing to thee to-morrow." 

I thanked her, but I could not say
That I was glad to hear it:
I left the house at break of day,
And did not venture near it
Till time, I hoped, had...Read more of this...

Oh! Think Not My Spirits Are Always As Light

by Thomas Moore
 Oh! think not my spirits are always as light, 
And as free from a pang as they seem to you now, 
Nor expect that the heart-beaming smile of to-night 
Will return with to-morrow to brighten my brow. 
No: -- life is a waste of wearisome hours, 
Which seldom the rose of enjoyment adorns; 
And the heart that is soonest...Read more of this...

Fleckno an English Priest at Rome

by Andrew Marvell
 Oblig'd by frequent visits of this man,
Whom as Priest, Poet, and Musician,
I for some branch of Melchizedeck took,
(Though he derives himself from my Lord Brooke)
I sought his Lodging; which is at the Sign
Of the sad Pelican; Subject divine
For Poetry: There three Stair Cases high,
Which signifies his triple property,
I found at last a Chamber, as 'twas said,
But seem'd a Coffin...Read more of this...

The Tournament

by Sidney Lanier
 Joust First.


I.

Bright shone the lists, blue bent the skies,
And the knights still hurried amain
To the tournament under the ladies' eyes,
Where the jousters were Heart and Brain.

II.

Flourished the trumpets: entered Heart,
A youth in crimson and gold.
Flourished again: Brain stood apart,
Steel-armored, dark and cold.

III.

Heart's palfrey caracoled gayly round,
Heart tra-li-ra'd merrily;
But Brain sat still, with never a sound,
So cynical-calm was he.

IV.

Heart's helmet-crest...Read more of this...

Youth and Age

by George (Lord) Byron
THERE'S not a joy the world can give like that it takes away 
When the glow of early thought declines in feeling's dull decay; 
'Tis not on youth's smooth cheek the blush alone which fades so fast  
But the tender bloom of heart is gone ere youth itself be past. 

Then the few whose spirits float above the wreck...Read more of this...

The Pact

by Sharon Olds
 We played dolls in that house where Father staggered with the
Thanksgiving knife, where Mother wept at noon into her one ounce of
cottage cheese, praying for the strength not to
kill herself. We kneeled over the
rubber bodies, gave them baths
carefully, scrubbed their little
orange hands, wrapped them up tight,
said goodnight, never spoke of the
woman like a gaping wound
weeping on the stairs, the...Read more of this...

The Man to the Angel

by George William Russell
 I HAVE wept a million tears:
Pure and proud one, where are thine,
What the gain though all thy years
In unbroken beauty shine?


All your beauty cannot win
Truth we learn in pain and sighs:
You can never enter in
To the circle of the wise.


They are but the slaves of light
Who have never known the gloom,
And between the dark and bright
Willed in freedom their...Read more of this...

Hate

by Carl Sandburg
 ONE man killed another. The saying between them had been “I’d give you the shirt off my back.”

The killer wept over the dead. The dead if he looks back knows the killer was sorry. It was a shot in one second of hate out of ten years of love.

Why is the sun a red ball in the six o’clock...Read more of this...

Modern Love I: By This He Knew She Wept

by George Meredith
 By this he knew she wept with waking eyes:
That, at his hand's light quiver by her head,
The strange low sobs that shook their common bed
Were called into her with a sharp surprise,
And strangled mute, like little gaping snakes,
Dreadfully venomous to him. She lay
Stone-still, and the long darkness flowed away
With muffled pulses. Then, as midnight makes
Her giant heart of Memory...Read more of this...

The Eaglet Mourned

by Victor Hugo
 ("Encore si ce banni n'eût rien aimé sur terre.") 
 
 {V, iv., August, 1832.} 


 Too hard Napoleon's fate! if, lone, 
 No being he had loved, no single one, 
 Less dark that doom had been. 
 But with the heart of might doth ever dwell 
 The heart of love! and in his island cell 
...Read more of this...

It Is Not the Tear At This Moment Shed

by Thomas Moore
 It is not the tear at this moment shed, 
When the cold turf has just been laid o'er him, 
That can tell how beloved was the friend that's fled, 
Or how deep in our hearts we deplore him. 
'Tis the tear, through many a long day wept, 
'Tis life's whole path o'ershaded; 
'Tis the one remembrance, fondly kept, 
When...Read more of this...

Sonnet XLV

by Francesco Petrarch
SONNET XLV. Passato è 'l tempo omai, lasso! che tanto. HIS ONLY DESIRE IS AGAIN TO BE WITH HER.  Fled—fled, alas! for ever—is the day,Which to my flame some soothing whilom brought;And fled is she of whom I wept and wrote:Yet still the pang, the tear, prolong their stay!And fled that...Read more of this...

Sonnet XXV

by Francesco Petrarch
SONNET XXV. S' io avessi pensato che sì care. HIS POEMS WERE WRITTEN ONLY TO SOOTHE HIS OWN GRIEF: OTHERWISE HE WOULD HAVE LABOURED TO MAKE THEM MORE DESERVING OF THE FAME THEY HAVE ACQUIRED.  Had I e'er thought that to the world so dearThe echo of my sighs would be in rhyme,I...Read more of this...

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