Famous Poems . . . Famous Love Poems . . . Famous Short Poems . . . Famous Funny Poems . . . by great poets!

Famous Poems

 
 Famous Poems
Poets

Alexander Pope

Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin

Alfred Edward Housman

Algernon Charles Swinburne

Allan Ramsay

Ambrose Bierce

Amelia Opie

Andrew Marvell

Anna Lætitia Barbauld

Anne Bradstreet

Anne Bronte

Anne Killigrew

Aphra Behn

Cecil Frances Alexander

Charles E. Carryl

Charles Kingsley

Charles Stuart Calverley

Charlotte Bronte

Christina Georgina Rossetti

Christopher Marlowe

Daniel Decatur Emmett

Dante Gabriel Rossetti

David Bates

E. Pauline Johnson



Edgar Allan Poe

Edith Nesbit

Edmund Spenser

Edward Lear

Edward Thomas

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Emily Bronte

Emily Dickinson

Ernest Dowson

Francis Beaumont

Francis Quarles

Francis Scott Key

Gelett Burgess

Geoffrey Chaucer

George Gascoigne

Gerard Manley Hopkins

Giacomo Leopardi

Helen Hunt Jackson

Henry King

Henry Lawson

Henry Vaughan

Henry VIII

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Hilaire Belloc

Isabella Valancy Crawford

James Whitcomb Riley

John Askham

John Boyle O'Reilly

John Donne

John Dryden

John Gay

John Henry Newman

John Keats

John Masefield

John McCrae

John Milton

John Newton

John Oldham

Jorge Luis Borges

Joseph Addison

Joseph Rodman Drake

Joyce Kilmer

Julian Grenfell

Katharine Lee Bates

Katherine Mansfield

Lascelles Abercrombie

Leigh Hunt

Letitia Elizabeth Landon

Lewis Carroll

Li Po

Lord Alfred Tennyson

Lord Byron

Major Henry Livingston Jr.

Mark Akenside

Mary Barber

Mary Elizabeth Coleridge

Matthew Arnold

Muriel Stuart

Nicholas Brenton

Oliver Goldsmith

Oliver Wendell Holmes

Oscar Wilde

Paul Laurence Dunbar

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Peter Gilligan

Phillis Wheatly

Queen Elizabeth I

Raymond Knister

Richard Barnfield

Richard Harris Barham

Richard Lovelace

Robert Blair

Robert Browning

Robert Burns

Robert Frost

Robert Greene

Robert Herrick

Robert Louis Stevenson

Robert W. Service

Rudyard Kipling

Rupert Brooke

Samuel Johnson

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Sappho

Sarah Flower Adams

Sarah Teasdale

Sidney Lanier

Sir George Etherege

Sir John Suckling

Sir Thomas Wyatt

Sir Walter Raleigh

Spike Milligan

Stephen C. Foster

Stuart Macfarlane

Stuart McLean

T. S. Eliot

Thomas Bateson

Thomas Campbell

Thomas Campion

Thomas Edward Brown

Thomas Gray

Thomas Hardy

Thomas Hood

Thomas Lodge

Thomas Lord Vaux

Thomas Lovell Beddoes

Thomas Nashe

Thomas Randolph

Tu Fu

Virgil

Walt Whitman

Wilfred Owen

William Allingham

William Barnes

William Blake

William Butler Yeats

William Cullen Bryant

William Henry Drummond

William Makepeace Thackeray

William Shakespeare

William Wilfred Campbell

William Wordsworth

COLLECTION 2

Alfred Lord Tennyson

Christina Rossetti

Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Dylan Thomas

E. E. Cummings

Elizabeth B. Browning

Emily Dickinson

George Herbert

Langston Hughes

Oscar Wilde

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Robert Browning

Robert Burns

Robert Frost

Robert Herrick

Shel Silverstein
Sir Walter Scott
T. S. Eliot

William Butler Yeats

William Morris

Thomas Moore

William Shakespeare

Poems by Category
Sad Poems
Death Poems
Love Poems
Short Poems
Funny Poems
Nature Poems
Teenage Poems
Friendship Poems
Wedding Poems
Birthday Poems
Religious Poems
Valentine Poems
Christmas Poems
Anniversary Poems
Readers Poems
Contributed Poems
Our poster stores
framed posters
humor posters
model posters
movie posters
sports posters
cheap posters
Great Websites

FREE DIET PLANS

Work from Home

Free View Webcams

notMensa IQ Tests

Christmas Jokes
World History

Baby Name Chooser

Poker Online

Top 100 Baby Names

Text Links

Online Advertising

Flowers

Top searches

Weird-Websites

Worst Cities

Love Poems

Inspirational Poems

Funny Poems

Free Diet Plans

Ghost Pictures

Ghost Stories

Raunchiest Riddles

Links
 
 

Famous Poems by Famous Poets :

A Country Life:To His Brother, Mr. Thomas Herrick

>> Robert Herrick <<

Thrice, and above, blest, my soul's half, art thou,
In thy both last and better vow;
Could'st leave the city, for exchange, to see
The country's sweet simplicity;
And it to know and practise, with intent
To grow the sooner innocent;
By studying to know virtue, and to aim
More at her nature than her name;
The last is but the least; the first doth tell
Ways less to live, than to live well:--
And both are known to thee, who now canst live
Led by thy conscience, to give
Justice to soon-pleased nature, and to show
Wisdom and she together go,
And keep one centre; This with that conspires
To teach man to confine desires,
And know that riches have their proper stint
In the contented mind, not mint;
And canst instruct that those who have the itch
Of craving more, are never rich.
These things thou knows't to th' height, and dost prevent
That plague, because thou art content
With that Heaven gave thee with a wary hand,
(More blessed in thy brass than land)
To keep cheap Nature even and upright;
To cool, not cocker appetite.
Thus thou canst tersely live to satisfy
The belly chiefly, not the eye;
Keeping the barking stomach wisely quiet,
Less with a neat than needful diet.
But that which most makes sweet thy country life,
Is the fruition of a wife,
Whom, stars consenting with thy fate, thou hast
Got not so beautiful as chaste;
By whose warm side thou dost securely sleep,
While Love the sentinel doth keep,
With those deeds done by day, which ne'er affright
Thy silken slumbers in the night:
Nor has the darkness power to usher in
Fear to those sheets that know no sin.
The damask'd meadows and the pebbly streams
Sweeten and make soft your dreams:
The purling springs, groves, birds, and well weaved bowers,
With fields enamelled with flowers,
Present their shapes, while fantasy discloses
Millions of Lilies mix'd with Roses.
Then dream, ye hear the lamb by many a bleat
Woo'd to come suck the milky teat;
While Faunus in the vision comes, to keep
From rav'ning wolves the fleecy sheep:
With thousand such enchanting dreams, that meet
To make sleep not so sound as sweet;
Nor call these figures so thy rest endear,
As not to rise when Chanticlere
Warns the last watch;--but with the dawn dost rise
To work, but first to sacrifice;
Making thy peace with Heaven for some late fault,
With holy-meal and spirting salt;
Which done, thy painful thumb this sentence tells us,
'Jove for our labour all things sells us.'
Nor are thy daily and devout affairs
Attended with those desp'rate cares
Th' industrious merchant has, who for to find
Gold, runneth to the Western Ind,
And back again, tortured with fears, doth fly,
Untaught to suffer Poverty;--
But thou at home, blest with securest ease,
Sitt'st, and believ'st that there be seas,
And watery dangers; while thy whiter hap
But sees these things within thy map;
And viewing them with a more safe survey,
Mak'st easy fear unto thee say,
'A heart thrice walled with oak and brass, that man
Had, first durst plough the ocean.'
But thou at home, without or tide or gale,
Canst in thy map securely sail;
Seeing those painted countries, and so guess
By those fine shades, their substances;
And from thy compass taking small advice,
Buy'st travel at the lowest price.
Nor are thine ears so deaf but thou canst hear,
Far more with wonder than with fear,
Fame tell of states, of countries, courts, and kings,
And believe there be such things;
When of these truths thy happier knowledge lies
More in thine ears than in thine eyes.
And when thou hear'st by that too true report,
Vice rules the most, or all, at court,
Thy pious wishes are, though thou not there,
Virtue had, and moved her sphere.
But thou liv'st fearless; and thy face ne'er shows
Fortune when she comes, or goes;
But with thy equal thoughts, prepared dost stand
To take her by the either hand;
Nor car'st which comes the first, the foul or fair:--
A wise man ev'ry way lies square;
And like a surly oak with storms perplex'd
Grows still the stronger, strongly vex'd.
Be so, bold Spirit; stand centre-like, unmoved;
And be not only thought, but proved
To be what I report thee, and inure
Thyself, if want comes, to endure;
And so thou dost; for thy desires are
Confined to live with private Lar:
Nor curious whether appetite be fed
Or with the first, or second bread.
Who keep'st no proud mouth for delicious cates;
Hunger makes coarse meats, delicates.
Canst, and unurged, forsake that larded fare,
Which art, not nature, makes so rare;
To taste boil'd nettles, coleworts, beets, and eat
These, and sour herbs, as dainty meat:--
While soft opinion makes thy Genius say,
'Content makes all ambrosia;'
Nor is it that thou keep'st this stricter size
So much for want, as exercise;
To numb the sense of dearth, which, should sin haste it,
Thou might'st but only see't, not taste it;
Yet can thy humble roof maintain a quire
Of singing crickets by thy fire;
And the brisk mouse may feast herself with crumbs,
Till that the green-eyed kitling comes;
Then to her cabin, blest she can escape
The sudden danger of a rape.
--And thus thy little well-kept stock doth prove,
Wealth cannot make a life, but love.
Nor art thou so close-handed, but canst spend,
(Counsel concurring with the end),
As well as spare; still conning o'er this theme,
To shun the first and last extreme;
Ordaining that thy small stock find no breach,
Or to exceed thy tether's reach;
But to live round, and close, and wisely true
To thine own self, and known to few.
Thus let thy rural sanctuary be
Elysium to thy wife and thee;
There to disport your selves with golden measure;
For seldom use commends the pleasure.
Live, and live blest; thrice happy pair; let breath,
But lost to one, be th' other's death:
And as there is one love, one faith, one troth,
Be so one death, one grave to both;
Till when, in such assurance live, ye may
Nor fear, or wish your dying day.

<-- Previous     |     Next -->

 
   
 
 
 
 

Recommended Poetry Books :

 
 

 

More Poems