Famous With Spite Poems by Famous Poets

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

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Freedom

by Helen Hunt Jackson
 he drank wine all night of the 
28th, and he kept thinking of her: 
the way she walked and talked and loved 
the way she told him things that seemed true 
but were not, and he knew the color of each 
of her dresses 
and her shoes-he knew the stock and curve of 
each heel 
as well as the...Read more of this...

Account Of A Visit From St. Nicholas

by Ralph Waldo Emerson
 'Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro' the house, 
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar plums danc'd in their heads,

And Mama in her 'kerchief, and I in my...Read more of this...

Sonnet CCX

by Francesco Petrarch
SONNET CCX. Chi vuol veder quantunque può Natura. WHOEVER BEHOLDS HER MUST ADMIT THAT HIS PRAISES CANNOT REACH HER PERFECTION.  Who wishes to behold the utmost mightOf Heaven and Nature, on her let him gaze,Sole sun, not only in my partial lays,But to the dark world, blind to virtue's light!Read more of this...

Tunbridge Wells

by John Wilmot
 At five this morn, when Phoebus raised his head
From Thetis' lap, I raised myself from bed,
And mounting steed, I trotted to the waters
The rendesvous of fools, buffoons, and praters,
Cuckolds, whores, citizens, their wives and daughters.

My squeamish stomach I with wine had bribed
To undertake the dose that was prescribed;
But turning head, a sudden curséd view
That innocent provision overthrew,
And without drinking,...Read more of this...

A Thing of Beauty (Endymion)

by John Keats
 A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: 
Its lovliness increases; it will never 
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep 
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep 
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing. 
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing 
A flowery band to bind us to the earth, 
Spite of despondence, of...Read more of this...

Half-Ballad of Waterval

by Rudyard Kipling
 (Non-commissioned Officers in Charge of Prisoners)
When by the labor of my 'ands
 I've 'elped to pack a transport tight 
With prisoners for foreign lands, 
 I ain't transported with delight.
 I know it's only just an' right,
 But yet it somehow sickens me,
For I 'ave learned at Waterval
 The meanin' of captivity.

Be'ind the pegged barb-wire strands,
 Beneath the tall...Read more of this...

Frankenstein

by Edward Field
 The monster has escaped from the dungeon
where he was kept by the Baron,
who made him with knobs sticking out from each side of his neck
where the head was attached to the body
and stitching all over
where parts of cadavers were sewed together.

He is pursued by the ignorant villagers,
who think he is evil and dangerous because he is ugly
and makes ugly...Read more of this...

The Constant Lover

by Sir John Suckling
 Out upon it, I have lov'd
Three whole days together;
And am like to love three more,
If it prove fair weather.

Time shall molt away his wings
Ere he shall discover
In such whole wide world again
Such a constant lover.

But the spite on't is, no praise
Is due at all to me:
Love with me had made no stays
Had it any been but she.

Had it any...Read more of this...

All Is Well

by Arthur Hugh Clough
 Whate'er you dream, with doubt possessed,
Keep, keep it snug within your breast,
And lay you down and take your rest;
And when you wake, to work again,
The wind it blows, the vessel goes,
And where and whither, no one knows.

'Twill all be well: no need of care;
Though how it will, and when, and where,
We cannot see, and can't declare.
In spite of dreams,...Read more of this...

The Rape of the Lock: Canto 3

by Alexander Pope
 Close by those meads, for ever crown'd with flow'rs, 
Where Thames with pride surveys his rising tow'rs,
There stands a structure of majestic frame,
Which from the neighb'ring Hampton takes its name.
Here Britain's statesmen oft the fall foredoom
Of foreign tyrants and of nymphs at home;
Here thou, great Anna! whom three realms obey,
Dost sometimes counsel take--and sometimes tea.
Hither the heroes and the...Read more of this...

Widows

by Louise Gluck
 My mother's playing cards with my aunt,
Spite and Malice, the family pastime, the game
my grandmother taught all her daughters.

Midsummer: too hot to go out.
Today, my aunt's ahead; she's getting the good cards.
My mother's dragging, having trouble with her concentration.
She can't get used to her own bed this summer.
She had no trouble last summer,
getting used to the floor. She learned...Read more of this...

Possum Trot

by Paul Laurence Dunbar
I 've journeyed 'roun' consid'able, a-seein' men an' things,
An' I 've learned a little of the sense that meetin' people brings;
But in spite of all my travelling an' of all I think I know,
I 've got one notion in my head, that I can't git to go;
An' it is that the folks I meet in any other spot
Ain't half so...Read more of this...

To His Noble Friend Mr. Richard Lovelace Upon His Poems

by Andrew Marvell
 Sir, 
Our times are much degenerate from those 
Which your sweet muse with your fair fortune chose, 
And as complexions alter with the climes, 
Our wits have drawn the infection of our times. 
That candid age no other way could tell 
To be ingenious, but by speaking well. 
Who best could praise had then the greatest praise, 
'Twas more...Read more of this...

Holy Sonnet XIII: What If This Present Were The Worlds Last Night?

by John Donne
 What if this present were the world's last night?
Mark in my heart, O soul, where thou dost dwell,
The picture of Christ crucified, and tell
Whether that countenance can thee affright,
Tears in his eyes quench the amazing light,
Blood fills his frowns, which from his pierced head fell.
And can that tongue adjudge thee unto hell,
Which prayed forgiveness for his foes' fierce spite?
No,...Read more of this...

Mushrooms

by Sylvia Plath
 Overnight, very
Whitely, discreetly,
Very quietly

Our toes, our noses
Take hold on the loam,
Acquire the air.

Nobody sees us,
Stops us, betrays us;
The small grains make room.

Soft fists insist on
Heaving the needles,
The leafy bedding,

Even the paving.
Our hammers, our rams,
Earless and eyeless,

Perfectly voiceless,
Widen the crannies,
Shoulder through holes. We

Diet on water,
On crumbs of shadow,
Bland-mannered, asking

Little or nothing.
So many of us!
So many of us!

We are shelves, we...Read more of this...

The Grasshopper

by Richard Lovelace
 O thou that swing'st upon the waving ear
Of some well-filled oaten beard,
Drunk ev'ry night with a delicious tear
Dropped thee from heav'n, where now th' art reared,

The joys of earth and air are thine entire,
That with thy feet and wings dost hop and fly;
And, when the poppy works, thou dost retire
To thy carved acorn-bed to lie.

Up with the day, the...Read more of this...

Jealous

by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Hyeah come Cæsar Higgins,
Don't he think he 's fine?
Look at dem new riggin's
Ain't he tryin' to shine?
Got a standin' collar
An' a stove-pipe hat,
I 'll jes' bet a dollar
Some one gin him dat.
Don't one o' you mention,
Nothin' 'bout his cloes,
Don't pay no attention,
Er let on you knows
Dat he 's got 'em on him,
Why, 't 'll mek him sick,
Jes go on an'...Read more of this...

The Mutes

by Denise Levertov
 Those groans men use
passing a woman on the street
or on the steps of the subway

to tell her she is a female
and their flesh knows it,

are they a sort of tune,
an ugly enough song, sung
by a bird with a slit tongue

but meant for music?

Or are they the muffled roaring
of deafmutes trapped in a building that is
slowly filling with smoke?

Perhaps both.

Such...Read more of this...

Virginity

by Robert William Service
 My mother she had children five and four are dead and gone;
While I, least worthy to survive, persist in living on.
She looks at me, I must confess, sometimes with spite and bitterness.

My mother is three-score and ten, while I am forty-three,
You don't know how it hurts me when we go somewhere to tea,
And people tell her on the sly...Read more of this...

Seaside Golf

by John Betjeman
 How straight it flew, how long it flew,
It clear'd the rutty track
And soaring, disappeared from view
Beyond the bunker's back -
A glorious, sailing, bounding drive
That made me glad I was alive.

And down the fairway, far along
It glowed a lonely white;
I played an iron sure and strong
And clipp'd it out of sight,
And spite of grassy banks between
I knew I'd find it...Read more of this...

Porphyrias Lover

by Robert Browning
 The rain set early in tonight, 
 The sullen wind was soon awake, 
It tore the elm-tops down for spite, 
 And did its worst to vex the lake: 
 I listened with heart fit to break. 
When glided in Porphyria; straight 
 She shut the cold out and the storm, 
And kneeled and made the cheerless grate 
...Read more of this...

Freedom on the Wallaby

by Henry Lawson
 Australia's a big country 
An' Freedom's humping bluey, 
An' Freedom's on the wallaby 
Oh! don't you hear 'er cooey? 
She's just begun to boomerang, 
She'll knock the tyrants silly, 
She's goin' to light another fire 
And boil another billy. 

Our fathers toiled for bitter bread 
While loafers thrived beside 'em, 
But food to eat and clothes to wear, 
Their...Read more of this...

Psalm III: My God How Many Are My Fears

by Isaac Watts
 My God, how many are my fears!
How fast my foes increase!
Conspiring my eternal death,
They break my present peace.

The lying tempter would persuade
There's no relief from heaven;
And all my swelling sins appear
Too big to be forgiven.

But thou, my glory and my strength,
Shall on the tempter tread,
Shall silence all my threat'ning guilt,
And raise my drooping head.

I cried, and from his holy...Read more of this...

Lines Written In The Belief That The Ancient Roman Festival Of The Dead Was Called Ambarvalia

by Rupert Brooke
 Swings the way still by hollow and hill,
And all the world's a song;
"She's far," it sings me, "but fair," it rings me,
"Quiet," it laughs, "and strong!"

Oh! spite of the miles and years between us,
Spite of your chosen part,
I do remember; and I go
With laughter in my heart.

So above the little folk that know not,
Out of the white hill-town,
High up...Read more of this...

The Song Of Old Joe Swallow

by Henry Lawson
 When I was up the country in the rough and early days, 
I used to work along ov Jimmy Nowlett's bullick-drays; 
Then the reelroad wasn't heered on, an' the bush was wild an' strange, 
An' we useter draw the timber from the saw-pits in the range -- 
Load provisions for the stations, an' we'd travel far and slow 
Through...Read more of this...

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