27 Popular Famous Poems

21. The Poet

By Raymond Garfield Dandridge

Famous Poem

Raymond Garfield Dandridge (1883–1930) was an American poet from Cincinnati, Ohio. Despite being affected by partial paralysis in 1911, which left him bedridden for the remainder of his life, he taught himself to write with his left hand. Influenced by Paul Laurence Dunbar, he often wrote in African-American dialect. In "The Poet," we glimpse the struggles of a poet who must juggle his creative dreams with manual labor to survive. Despite meager pay and criticism from editors, he perseveres, aware that his true worth may only be recognized after his time. This poem sheds light on the challenges faced by poets and the harsh realities they confront while pursuing writing poetry.

The poet sits and dreams and dreams;
He scans his verse; he probes his themes.

Then turns to stretch or stir about,
Lest, like his thoughts, his strength give out.

Then off to bed, for he must rise
And cord some wood, or tamp some ties,

Or break a field of fertile soil,
Or do some other manual toil.

He dare not live by wage of pen,
Most poorly paid of poor paid men,

With shoes o'er-run, and thread bare clothes,
And editors among the foes

Who mock his song, deny him bread,
Then sing his praise when he is dead.

Go To Complete Poem

Stories 0
Shares 6
Favorited 1
Votes 3
Rating 4.67

Featured Shared Story

No Stories yet, You can be the first!

Touched by the poem? Share your story! (0)

22. Who Am I?

By Carl Sandburg

Famous Poem

Carl Sandburg (1878-1967) writes this poem in the form of a free verse riddle. It follows no specific structure or rhyme scheme. When we find out the answer to the riddle, we see that this poem uses personification to describe it. Carl Sandburg’s interest in President Abraham Lincoln (“Honest Abe”) led him to write two multi-volume biographies. These biographies brought Sandburg the honor of the 1939 Pulitzer Prize in History.

My head knocks against the stars.
My feet are on the hilltops.
My finger-tips are in the valleys and shores of universal life.
Down in the sounding foam of primal things I reach my hands and play with pebbles of destiny.
I have been to hell and back many times.
I know all about heaven, for I have talked with God.
I dabble in the blood and guts of the terrible.
I know the passionate seizure of beauty
And the marvelous rebellion of man at all signs reading "Keep Off."

My name is Truth and I am the most elusive captive in the universe.

Go To Complete Poem

Stories 0
Shares 589
Favorited 16
Votes 75
Rating 4.36

Featured Shared Story

No Stories yet, You can be the first!

Touched by the poem? Share your story! (0)

23. What Are Heavy?

By Christina Rossetti

Famous Poem

Christina Rossetti reflects on things that are heavy, brief, frail, and deep. She shares both concrete items and metaphorical ones, whether it’s a state of mind or moment in time. It’s a poem that makes the reader reflect on the meaning of life.

What are heavy? Sea-sand and sorrow;
What are brief? Today and tomorrow;
What are frail? Spring blossoms and youth;
What are deep? The ocean and truth.

Go To Complete Poem

Stories 3
Shares 3180
Favorited 36
Votes 706
Rating 4.31

Featured Shared Story

It’s pure perfection, this poem. It couldn't have been said any better and yet be any more poetic and precise. Beautiful. This poem shall stand the test of time, For it's got so much...

Read complete story

Touched by the poem? Share your story! (3)

24. Life

By Henry Van Dyke

Famous Poem

In life, we often look too far into the future or linger too long on the past that we miss what’s right in front of us. No matter where our path leads, let’s find joy in the moment. Let’s enjoy all the things that come our way. Famous poet Henry van Dyke (1852-1933) was a preacher for nearly 20 years, and he was known as one of the best preachers in New York City.

Let me but live my life from year to year,
With forward face and unreluctant soul;
Not hurrying to, nor turning from the goal;
Not mourning for the things that disappear
In the dim past, nor holding back in fear
From what the future veils; but with a whole
And happy heart, that pays its toll
To Youth and Age, and travels on with cheer.

So let the way wind up the hill or down,
O'er rough or smooth, the journey will be joy:
Still seeking what I sought when but a boy,
New friendship, high adventure, and a crown,
My heart will keep the courage of the quest,
And hope the road's last turn will be the best.

Go To Complete Poem

Stories 0
Shares 156
Favorited 9
Votes 14
Rating 4.14

Featured Shared Story

No Stories yet, You can be the first!

Touched by the poem? Share your story! (0)

25. The Bells

By Edgar Allan Poe

Famous Poem

"The Bells" was published in 1849 after the death of Edgar Allan Poe.
The poem has four parts to it; each part becomes darker and darker as the poem progresses from "the jingling and the tinkling" and "rhyming and the chiming" of the bells in Parts 1 and 2 to the "clamor and the clangor" of the bells in Part 3 and finally the "moaning and the groaning" of the bells in part 4.
The poem makes extensive use of Onomatopoeia, a poetic device where words are used that imitate sounds. Tinkle, wells, cells, swells, shriek are just a few examples of the many words in the poem used to vividly express the noise of THE BELLS!

I.

Hear the sledges with the bells—
Silver bells!
What a world of merriment their melody foretells!
How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,
In the icy air of night!
While the stars that oversprinkle
All the heavens, seem to twinkle
With a crystalline delight;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the tintinabulation that so musically wells
From the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells—
From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.

II.

Hear the mellow wedding bells,
Golden bells!
What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!
Through the balmy air of night
How they ring out their delight!
From the molten-golden notes,
And all in tune,
What a liquid ditty floats
To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats
On the moon!
Oh, from out the sounding cells,
What a gush of euphony voluminously wells!
How it swells!
How it dwells
On the Future! how it tells
Of the rapture that impels
To the swinging and the ringing
Of the bells, bells, bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells—
To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells!

III.

Hear the loud alarum bells—
Brazen bells!
What tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells!
In the startled ear of night
How they scream out their affright!
Too much horrified to speak,
They can only shriek, shriek,
Out of tune,
In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire,
In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire,
Leaping higher, higher, higher,
With a desperate desire,
And a resolute endeavor
Now—now to sit or never,
By the side of the pale-faced moon.
Oh, the bells, bells, bells!
What a tale their terror tells
Of Despair!
How they clang, and clash, and roar!
What a horror they outpour
On the bosom of the palpitating air!
Yet the ear it fully knows,
By the twanging,
And the clanging,
How the danger ebbs and flows;
Yet the ear distinctly tells,
In the jangling,
And the wrangling.
How the danger sinks and swells,
By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells—
Of the bells—
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells—
In the clamor and the clangor of the bells!

IV.

Hear the tolling of the bells—
Iron bells!
What a world of solemn thought their monody compels!
In the silence of the night,
How we shiver with affright
At the melancholy menace of their tone!
For every sound that floats
From the rust within their throats
Is a groan.
And the people—ah, the people—
They that dwell up in the steeple,
All alone,
And who tolling, tolling, tolling,
In that muffled monotone,
Feel a glory in so rolling
On the human heart a stone—
They are neither man nor woman—
They are neither brute nor human—
They are Ghouls:
And their king it is who tolls;
And he rolls, rolls, rolls,
Rolls
A pæan from the bells!
And his merry bosom swells
With the pæan of the bells!
And he dances, and he yells;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the pæan of the bells—
Of the bells:
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the throbbing of the bells—
Of the bells, bells, bells—
To the sobbing of the bells;
Keeping time, time, time,
As he knells, knells, knells,
In a happy Runic rhyme,
To the rolling of the bells—
Of the bells, bells, bells—
To the tolling of the bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells—
Bells, bells, bells—
To the moaning and the groaning of the bells.

Go To Complete Poem

Stories 0
Shares 1122
Favorited 10
Votes 179
Rating 4.12

Featured Shared Story

No Stories yet, You can be the first!

Touched by the poem? Share your story! (0)

26. Though All The Fates

By Henry David Thoreau

Famous Poem

Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862) was an American author, poet, abolitionist, and historian. Ralph Waldo Emerson was Thoreau’s neighbor, mentor, and friend. Both had Transcendental ideas, which was the American version of Romantic Idealism. Transcendentalists believed in focusing on the spiritual instead of material concerns. They believed society had tarnished the purity of an individual. Themes of Transcendentalism can be found in this poem. Though something seems firm and unwavering, you don’t see what is happening below the surface. Staying true to who we are will pay off in the end and keep you from destruction. This poem is made up of rhyming couplets.

Though all the fates should prove unkind,
Leave not your native land behind.
The ship, becalmed, at length stands still;
The steed must rest beneath the hill;
But swiftly still our fortunes pace
To find us out in every place.

The vessel, though her masts be firm,
Beneath her copper bears a worm;
Around the cape, across the line,
Till fields of ice her course confine;
It matters not how smooth the breeze,
How shallow or how deep the seas,
Whether she bears Manilla twine,
Or in her hold Madeira wine,
Or China teas, or Spanish hides,
In port or quarantine she rides;
Far from New England's blustering shore,
New England's worm her hulk shall bore,
And sink her in the Indian seas,
Twine, wine, and hides, and China teas.

Go To Complete Poem

Stories 0
Shares 345
Favorited 13
Votes 105
Rating 4.11

Featured Shared Story

No Stories yet, You can be the first!

Touched by the poem? Share your story! (0)

27. America The Beautiful

By Katharine Lee Bates

Famous Poem

Katharine Lee Bates was inspired to write this poem while on a trip to Colorado Springs in 1893. When she reached the top of Pikes Peak, she had this to say. “All the wonder of America seemed displayed there, with the sea-like expanse." The first version of “America the Beautiful” was published in a weekly journal, The Congregationalist, on July 4, 1895. Revisions were made in 1904 and then again in 1913 to become the version we know today. It became a patriotic song sung to Samuel A. Ward’s tune “Materna."

O beautiful for spacious skies,
For amber waves of grain,
For purple mountain majesties
Above the fruited plain!
America! America!
God shed his grace on thee,
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea.

O beautiful for pilgrim feet,
Whose stern, impassioned stress
A thoroughfare of freedom beat
Across the wilderness!
America! America!
God mend thine ev’ry flaw,
Confirm thy soul in self-control,
Thy liberty in law.

O beautiful for heroes proved
In liberating strife,
Who more than self their country loved,
And mercy more than life!
America! America!
May God thy gold refine,
Till all success be nobleness,
And ev’ry gain divine.

O beautiful for patriot dream
That sees beyond the years
Thine alabaster cities gleam,
Undimmed by human tears!
America! America!
God shed his grace on thee,
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea.