Famous Poems - Famous Love Poems - Short Famous Poets Poems

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Famous Poems

You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I'll rise. Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? 'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells Pumping in my living room. Just like moons and like suns, With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high, Still I'll rise.



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Did you waste the day, or lose it, was it well or sorely spent? Did you leave a trail of kindness or a scar of discontent? As you close your eyes in slumber do you think that God would say, You have earned one more tomorrow by the work you did today?



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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 too wise:



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Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there



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Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date: Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimm'd; And every fair from fair sometime declines,



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The tree has entered my hands,
The sap has ascended my arms,
The tree has grown in my breast-
Downward,
The branches grow out of me, like arms.
Tree you are,
Moss you are,
You are violets with wind above them.
A child - so high - you are,
And all this is folly to the world.




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I know what my heart is like
since your love died;
it is like a hollow ledge
holding a little pool
left there by the tide,
a little tepid pool,
drying inward from the edge.




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I met a traveler from an antique land
Who said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert . . . Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
‘My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!'
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away."




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There is another sky,
Ever serene and fair,
And there is another sunshine,
Though it be darkness there;
Never mind faded forests, Austin,
Never mind silent fields-
Here is a little forest,
Whose leaf is ever green;
Here is a brighter garden,
Where not a frost has been;
In its unfading flowers
I hear the bright bee hum:
Prithee, my brother,
Into my garden come!




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Those lips that Love's own hand did make
Breathed forth the sound that said I hate
To me that languished for her sake
But when she saw my woeful state,
Straight in her heart did mercy come,
Chiding that tongue that ever sweet
Was used in giving gentle doom,
And taught it thus anew to greet:
"I hate" she altered with an end,
That followed it as gentle day
Doth follow night, who like a fiend
From heaven to hell is flown away.
"I hate" from hate away she threw,
And saved my life, saying not you.




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THIS dust was once the Man,
Gentle, plain, just and resoluteunder whose cautious hand,
Against the foulest crime in history known in any land or age,
Was saved the Union of These States.




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O my Love is like a red, red rose,
That's newly sprung in June,
O my Love is like the melodie,
That's sweetly played in tune...

As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in love am I,
And I will love thee still,my dear,
Till all the seas gang dry,
Till all the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt will the sun,
I will love thee still, my dear,
While the sands of life shall run.
& fare thee weel, my only Love,
& fare thee weel a while,
& I will come again, my Love,
Tho' it were ten thousand mile.




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A thing of beauty is a joy for ever,
It's 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...




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Where true Love burns Desire is Love's pure flame,
It is the reflex of our earthly frame,
That takes it's meaning from the nobler part,
& but translates the language of the heart.




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O Mistress mine,
where are you roaming?
O, stay and hear;
your true Love is coming,
That can sing both high and low,
Trip no further,pretty sweeting;
Journeys end in Lovers meeting,
Every wise man's son dont know.
What is Love?
‘Tis not hereafter,
Present mirth hath present laughter,
What's to come is still unsure,
In delay there lies not plenty,
Then, come kiss me, sweet and twenty,
Youth's a stuff will not endure.




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Flow, softly flow, by lawn and lea,
A rivulet then a river;

No where by thee my steps shall be,
For ever and for ever.

But here will sigh thine alder tree,
And here thine aspen shiver;

And here by thee will hum the bee,
For ever and for ever.




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Now droops the milkwhite peacock like a ghost,
And like a ghost she glimmers on to me.

Now lies the Earth all Danae to the stars,
And all thy heart lies open unto me.

Now slides the silent meteor on, and leaves
A shining furrow, as thy thoughts in me.

Now folds the lily all her sweetness up,
And slips into the bosom of the lake:

So fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip
Into my bosom and be lost in me.




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When Roses cease to bloom, Sir,
And Violets are done

When Bumblebees in solemn flight
Have passed beyond the Sun

The hand that paused to gather
Upon this Summer's day

Will idle lie -- in Auburn
Then take my flowers -- pray!




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Alas, poor Death! Where is thy glory?
Where is thy famous force, thy ancient sting?

Alas, poor mortal, void of story!
Go spell and read how I have killed thy King.

Poor Death! And who was hurt thereby?
Thy curse being laid on Him makes thee accurst.




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To outer senses there is peace,
A dreamy peace on either hand,

Deep silence in the shadowy land,
Deep silence where the shadows cease.

And suddenly the moon withdraws
Her sickle from the lightening skies,

And to her sombre cavern flies,
Wrapped in a veil of yellow gauze.




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Put the saddle on the mare,
For the wet winds blow.

There's winter in the air,
And autumn all below.

For the red leaves are flying.
And the red bracken dying.

And the red fox lying.
Where the oziers grow.




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Farewell false love, the oracle of lies,
A mortal foe and enemy to rest.

An envious boy, from whom all cares arise,
A bastard vile, a beast with rage possessed.

A way of error, a temple full of treason,
In all effects contrary unto reason.

A poisoned serpent covered all with flowers,
Mother of sighs, and murderer of repose.




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Hear my prayer, O heavenly Father,
Ere I lay me down to sleep.

Bid Thy angels, pure and holy,
Round my bed their vigil keep.

My sins are heavy, but Thy mercy.
Far outweighs them, every one.

Down before Thy cross I cast them,
Trusting in Thy help alone.




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Raise me a daïs of silk and down.
Hang it with vair and purple dyes.

Carve it in doves and pomegranates,
And peacocks with a hundred eyes.

Work it in gold and silver grapes,
In leaves and silver fleurs-de-lys.

Because the birthday of my life.
Is come, my love is come to me.




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There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins
And there the grass grows soft and white
And there the sun burns crimson bright
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.




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Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream
Yet if hope has flown away




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The tree has entered my hands,
The sap has ascended my arms,
The tree has grown in my breast-
Downward,
The branches grow out of me, like arms.
Tree you are,
Moss you are,
You are violets with wind above them.
A child - so high - you are,
And all this is folly to the world.




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O my Luve 's like a red, red rose
That 's newly sprung in June
O my Luve 's like the melodie
That's sweetly play'd in tune!
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass
So deep in luve am I
And I will luve thee still, my dear
Till a' the seas gang dry




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Outside the sky is light with stars
There's a hollow roaring from the sea.
And, alas! for the little almond flowers
The wind is shaking the almond tree.




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I don't mind dying
But I want my funeral to be fine
A row of long tall mammas
Fainting, Fanning and crying




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The Great Way is not difficult
for those who hav no preferences.
When love and hate are both absent
everything becomes clear and undisguised.




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Hope iz the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,




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What happens 2 a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
Like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore
& then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust & sugar over
like a syrupy sweet?
May b it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?




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O Lady Moon, your horns point toward the east:
Shine, be increased;
O Lady Moon, your horns point toward the west:
Wane, be at rest.




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From fairest creatures we desire increase,
That thereby beauty's rose might never die,
But as the riper should by time decease,
His tender heir might bear his memory:




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Without warning
as a whirlwind
swoops on an oak
Love shakes my heart




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Health is the first good lent to men;
A gentle disposition then:
Next, to be rich by no by-ways;
Lastly, with friends t' enjoy our days.




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My heart iz like a singing bird
Whose nest iz in a water shoot
My heart iz like an orange tree
Whose boughs r bent with thick set fruit
My heart iz like a rainbow shell
That paddles in a halcyon sea
My heart iz gladder than all these
Becoz my love iz come 2 me




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It is not true that people stop pursuing dreams because they grow old, they grow old because they stop pursuing dreams.



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Wisdom, compassion, and courage are the three universally recognized moral qualities of men. Common sense in an uncommon degree is what the world calls wisdom.



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Action is our greatest weapon against fear. Left to molder, fear grows upon itself, but in the face of action, fear is left in the dust. Freedom lies in been BOLD.



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