Famous You Tell Me Poems by Famous Poets
These are examples of famous You Tell Me poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous you tell me poems. These examples illustrate what a famous you tell me poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).
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by
Emile Verhaeren
Tell me, my simple and tranquil sweetheart, tell me how much an absence, even of a day, saddens and stirs up love, and reawakens it in all its sleeping scalds?
I go to meet those who are returning from the wondrous distances to which at dawn you went; I sit beneath a tree at a bend of the path, and, on...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
They tell you not to drink, that otherwise you shall
become a prey to torment, and that in the day of
reckoning you will burn as fire. That may be, but the
day in which wine makes you joyous is more precious
than the goods of this world and those of the next....Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
Sweet Mountains -- Ye tell Me no lie --
Never deny Me -- Never fly --
Those same unvarying Eyes
Turn on Me -- when I fail -- or feign,
Or take the Royal names in vain --
Their far -- slow -- Violet Gaze --
My Strong Madonnas -- Cherish still --
The Wayward Nun -- beneath the Hill --
Whose service -- is to You...Read more of this...
by
William Shakespeare
Look in thy glass, and tell the face thou viewest
Now is the time that face should form another;
Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest,
Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.
For where is she so fair whose unear'd womb
Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?
Or who is he so fond will be the...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
Tell me, friend, have I acquired riches in this world?
No. Have I given myself up to time as it was slipping
away? No. I am the torch of joy; but that torch once
extinguished, I am nothing. I am the cup of Djem [the
royal cup], but that cup once broken, I am no longer
anything....Read more of this...
by
Lisel Mueller
For Linda Foster
I
Because we used to have leaves
and on damp days
our muscles feel a tug,
painful now, from when roots
pulled us into the ground
and because our children believe
they can fly, an instinct retained
from when the bones in our arms
were shaped like zithers and broke
neatly under their feathers
and because before we had lungs
we knew how far it was to the bottom
as...Read more of this...
by
Robert Pinsky
to Robert Hass and in memory of Elliot Gilbert
Slow dulcimer, gavotte and bow, in autumn,
Bashõ and his friends go out to view the moon;
In summer, gasoline rainbow in the gutter,
The secret courtesy that courses like ichor
Through the old form of the rude, full-scale joke,
Impossible to tell in writing. "Bashõ"
He named himself, "Banana Tree": banana
After the plant some grateful students...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
If I could tell how glad I was
I should not be so glad --
But when I cannot make the Force,
Nor mould it into Word,
I know it is a sign
That new Dilemna be
From mathematics further off
Than for Eternity....Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
The Martyr Poets -- did not tell --
But wrought their Pang in syllable --
That when their mortal name be numb --
Their mortal fate -- encourage Some --
The Martyr Painters -- never spoke --
Bequeathing -- rather -- to their Work --
That when their conscious fingers cease --
Some seek in Art -- the Art of Peace --...Read more of this...
by
Stephen Crane
"Tell brave deeds of war."
Then they recounted tales, --
"There were stern stands
And bitter runs for glory."
Ah, I think there were braver deeds....Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
"Houses" -- so the Wise Men tell me --
"Mansions"! Mansions must be warm!
Mansions cannot let the tears in,
Mansions must exclude the storm!
"Many Mansions," by "his Father,"
I don't know him; snugly built!
Could the Children find the way there --
Some, would even trudge tonight!...Read more of this...
by
William Blake
Never seek to tell thy love
Love that never told can be;
For the gentle wind does move
Silently, invisibly.
I told my love, I told my love,
I told her all my heart,
Trembling, cold, in ghastly fears--
Ah, she doth depart.
Soon as she was gone from me
A traveller came by
Silently, invisibly--
O, was no deny....Read more of this...
by
Francis Thompson
What shall I your true love tell,
Earth forsaking maid?
What shall I your true love tell
When life's spectre's laid?
"Tell him that, our side the grave,
Maid may not believe
Life should be so sad to have,
That's so sad to leave!"
What shall I your true love tell
When I come to him?
What shall I...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
We should tell no secrets to the vilely indiscreet; from
the nightingale, even, should we conceal them. Consider,
then, the torment you inflict on human souls by forcing
them to disrobe thus before the gaze of all....Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
In Paradise, they tell us, Houris dwell,
And fountains run with wine and oxymel:
If these be lawful in the world to come,
Surely 'tis right to love them here as well....Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
I've none to tell me to but Thee
So when Thou failest, nobody.
It was a little tie --
It just held Two, nor those it held
Since Somewhere thy sweet Face has spilled
Beyond my Boundary --
If things were opposite -- and Me
And Me it were -- that ebbed from Thee
On some unanswering Shore --
Would'st Thou seek so -- just say
That I the...Read more of this...
by
Jean Toomer
Tell me, dear beauty of the dusk,
When purple ribbons bind the hill,
Do dreams your secret wish fulfill,
Do prayers, like kernels from the husk
Come from your lips? Tell me if when
The mountains loom at night, giant shades
Of softer shadow, swift like blades
Of grass seeds come to flower. Then
Tell me if the night winds bend
Them towards me, if the Shenandoah
As it...Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
"Go tell it" -- What a Message --
To whom -- is specified --
Not murmur -- not endearment --
But simply -- we -- obeyed --
Obeyed -- a Lure -- a Longing?
Oh Nature -- none of this --
To Law -- said sweet Thermopylae
I give my dying Kiss --...Read more of this...
by
William Shakespeare
Look in thy glass, and tell the face thou viewest
Now is the time that face should form another,
Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest,
Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.
For where is she so fair whose uneared womb
Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?
Or who is he so fond will be the tomb
Of his self-love to stop posterity?
Thou...Read more of this...
by
Howard Nemerov
I tell you that I see her still
At the dark entrance of the hall.
One gas lamp burning near her shoulder
Shone also from her other side
Where hung the long inaccurate glass
Whose pictures were as troubled water.
An immense shadow had its hand
Between us on the floor, and seemed
To hump the knuckles nervously,
A giant crab readying to walk,
Or...Read more of this...
by
Eliza Cook
THREE summers have gone since the first time we met, love,
And still 'tis in vain that I ask thee to wed ;
I hear no reply but a gentle " Not yet, love,"
With a smile of your lip, and a shake of your head.
Ah ! how oft have I whispered, how oft have I sued thee,
And breathed my soul's question...Read more of this...
by
Omar Khayyam
Can alien Pharisees Thy kindness tell,
Like us, Thy intimates, who nigh Thee dwell?
Thou say'st, «All sinners will I burn with fire.»
Say that to strangers, we know Thee too well....Read more of this...
by
Emily Dickinson
To tell the Beauty would decrease
To state the Spell demean --
There is a syllable-less Sea
Of which it is the sign --
My will endeavors for its word
And fails, but entertains
A Rapture as of Legacies --
Of introspective Mines --...Read more of this...
by
Thomas Moore
Nay, tell me not, dear, that the goblet drowns
One charm of feeling, one fond regret;
Believe me, a few of thy angry frowns
Are all I've sunk in its bright wave yet.
Ne'er hath a beam
Been lost in the stream
That ever was shed from thy form or soul;
The spell of those eyes,
The balm of...Read more of this...
by
John Berryman
Tell it to the forest fire, tell it to the moon,
mention it in general to the moon
on the way down,
he's about to have his lady, permanent;
and this is the worst of all came ever sent
writhing Henry's way.
Ha ha, fifth column, quisling, genocide,
he held his hands & laught from side to side
a loverly time.
The berries & the rods left him...Read more of this...
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