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Famous Worn Out Poems by Famous Poets

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

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by Silverstein, Shel
...Well, my daddy left home when I was three,
and he didn't leave much to Ma and me,
just this old guitar and a bottle of booze.
Now I don't blame him because he run and hid,
but the meanest thing that he ever did was
before he left he went and named me Sue.

Well, he must have thought it was quite a joke,
and it got lots of laughs from a lot of folks...Read more of this...



by Pope, Alexander
...ence to the Fair as Great! 
Beauties, like Tyrants, old and friendless grown, 
Yet hate repose, and dread to be alone, 
Worn out in public, weary ev'ry eye, 
Nor leave one sigh behind them when they die. 

Pleasures the sex, as children Birds, pursue, 
Still out of reach, yet never out of view; 
Sure, if they catch, to spoil the Toy at most, 
To covet flying, and regret when lost: 
At last, to follies Youth could scarce defend, 
It grows their Age's prudence to pretend; 
...Read more of this...

by Eliot, T S (Thomas Stearns)
...I

In my beginning is my end. In succession
Houses rise and fall, crumble, are extended,
Are removed, destroyed, restored, or in their place
Is an open field, or a factory, or a by-pass.
Old stone to new building, old timber to new fires,
Old fires to ashes, and ashes to the earth
Which is already flesh, fur and faeces,
Bone of man and beast, corns...Read more of this...

by Rossetti, Christina
...her face,
And lodged in dimples of her chin,
And streaked her neck which quaked like curd.
At last the evil people,
Worn out by her resistance,
Flung back her penny, kicked their fruit
Along whichever road they took,
Not leaving root or stone or shoot.
Some writhed into the ground,
Some dived into the brook
With ring and ripple.
Some scudded on the gale without a sound,
Some vanished in the distance.

In a smart, ache, tingle,
Lizzie went her way;
Knew not was...Read more of this...

by Kipling, Rudyard
...If you can keep your head when all about you 
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you; 
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, 
But make allowance for their doubting too: 
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, 
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies, 
Or being hated don't give way to hating, 
And yet don't look too good, nor talk ...Read more of this...



by Tebb, Barry
...I was never a film buff, give me Widmark and Wayne any day

Saturday matin?es with Margaret Gardener still hold sway

As my memory veers backwards this temperate Boxing Day-

Westerns and war films and a blurred Maigret,

Coupled with a worn-out sixties Penguin Mallarm?-

How about that mix for a character trait?

Try as I may I can’t get my head round the...Read more of this...

by Plath, Sylvia
...The night is only a sort of carbon paper,
Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of stars
Letting in the light, peephole after peephole --
A bonewhite light, like death, behind all things.
Under the eyes of the stars and the moon's rictus
He suffers his desert pillow, sleeplessness
Stretching its fine, irritating sand in all directions.

Over and o...Read more of this...

by St Vincent Millay, Edna
...on the edge
One instant—looking over—and the next
To shudder and lurch forward out of sight—

 * * * * * * *

Ah, I am worn out—I am wearied out—
It is too much—I am but flesh and blood,
And I must sleep. Though you were dead again,
I am but flesh and blood and I must sleep....Read more of this...

by Dryden, John
...realms of Non-sense, absolute.
This aged prince now flourishing in peace,
And blest with issue of a large increase,
Worn out with business, did at length debate
To settle the succession of the State:
And pond'ring which of all his sons was fit
To reign, and wage immortal war with wit;
Cry'd, 'tis resolv'd; for nature pleads that he
Should only rule, who most resembles me:
Shadwell alone my perfect image bears,
Mature in dullness from his tender years.
Shadwell alone, ...Read more of this...

by Byron, George (Lord)
...'Twas after dread Pultowa's day,
When fortune left the royal Swede - 
Around a slaughtered army lay,
No more to combat and to bleed.
The power and glory of the war,
Faithless as their vain votaries, men,
Had passed to the triumphant Czar,
And Moscow’s walls were safe again -
Until a day more dark and drear,
And a more memorable year,
Should give to sla...Read more of this...

by Browning, Elizabeth Barrett
...art and I.

VII.
Yet who complains ? My heart and I ?
In this abundant earth no doubt
Is little room for things worn out :
Disdain them, break them, throw them by
And if before the days grew rough
We once were loved, used, -- well enough,
I think, we've fared, my heart and I....Read more of this...

by Eliot, T S (Thomas Stearns)
...Thou hast committed—
Fornication: but that was in another country,
And besides, the wench is dead.

The Jew of Malta.


I

AMONG the smoke and fog of a December afternoon
You have the scene arrange itself—as it will seem to do—
With “I have saved this afternoon for you”;
And four wax candles in the darkened room,
Four rings of light upon the ceilin...Read more of this...

by Lowell, Amy
...A drifting, April, twilight sky,
A wind which blew the puddles dry,
And slapped the river into waves
That ran and hid among the staves
Of an old wharf. A watery light
Touched bleak the granite bridge, and white
Without the slightest tinge of gold,
The city shivered in the cold.
All day my thoughts had lain as dead,
Unborn and bursting in my head.Read more of this...

by Masefield, John
...ck to the Lion, where I slept. 
The raging madness hot and floodin' 
Boiled itself out and left me sudden, 
Left me worn out and sick and cold, 
Aching as though I'd all grown old; 
So there I lay, and there they found me 
On door-mat, with a curtain round me. 
Si took my heels and Jane my head 
And laughed, and carried me to bed. 
And from the neighbouring street they reskied 
My boots and trousers, coat and weskit; 
They bath-bricked both the nozzles bright 
To ...Read more of this...

by Browning, Robert
...I.

You're my friend:
I was the man the Duke spoke to;
I helped the Duchess to cast off his yoke, too;
So here's the tale from beginning to end,
My friend!

II.

Ours is a great wild country:
If you climb to our castle's top,
I don't see where your eye can stop;
For when you've passed the cornfield country,
Where vineyards leave off, flocks are pac...Read more of this...

by Yeats, William Butler
...nd his friend, their faces to the South,
 Had trod the uneven road. Their hoots were soiled,
 Their Connemara cloth worn out of shape;
 They had kept a steady pace as though their beds,
 Despite a dwindling and late-risen moon,
 Were distant still. An old man cocked his ear.

Aherne. What made that Sound?

Robartes. A rat or water-hen
Splashed, or an otter slid into the stream.
We are on the bridge; that shadow is the tower,
And the light proves that h...Read more of this...

by Tennyson, Alfred Lord
...been 
Sphered up with Cassiopëia, or the enthroned 
Persephonè in Hades, now at length, 
Those winters of abeyance all worn out, 
A man I came to see you: but indeed, 
Not in this frequence can I lend full tongue, 
O noble Ida, to those thoughts that wait 
On you, their centre: let me say but this, 
That many a famous man and woman, town 
And landskip, have I heard of, after seen 
The dwarfs of presage: though when known, there grew 
Another kind of beauty in detail 
Made th...Read more of this...

by Arnold, Matthew
...Go, for they call you, shepherd, from the hill;
Go, shepherd, and untie the wattled cotes!
No longer leave thy wistful flock unfed,
Nor let thy bawling fellows rack their throats,
Nor the cropped herbage shoot another head.
But when the fields are still,
And the tired men and dogs all gone to rest,
And only the white sheep are sometimes seen
Cross and ...Read more of this...

by Byron, George (Lord)
...For some resource to turn himself about, 
And claim the help of his celestial peers, 
To aid him ere he should be quite worn out 
By the increased demand for his remarks: 
Six angels and twelve saints were named his clerks. 

V

This was a handsome board — at least for heaven; 
And yet they had even then enough to do, 
So many conqueror's cars were daily driven, 
So many kingdoms fitted up anew; 
Each day too slew its thousands six or seven, 
Till at the crowning carnage,...Read more of this...

by Swift, Jonathan
...rate some suburb trull,
His similes in order set,
And every crambo he could get;
Had gone through all the common-places
Worn out by wits, who rhyme on faces;
Before he could his poem close,
The lovely nymph had lost her nose.
Your virtues safely I commend;
They on no accidents depend:
Let malice look with all her eyes,
She dare not say the poet lies.
Stella, when you these lines transcribe,
Lest you should take them for a bribe,
Resolved to mortify your pride,
I'll he...Read more of this...

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Book: Shattered Sighs