Favourite Classic Poem

  • StarGirl
    13 years ago

    What's your favourite all time classic poem and why? Where did you hear it from and what does it mean to you? =)

    Mine is Brown Penny byWilliam Butler Yeats. I love it because it's about first love and it just describes to me what fools we all are with love either young or old. I first heard it recited in a movie but I can't remember which one.

    I whispered, 'I am too young,'
    And then, 'I am old enough';
    Wherefore I threw a penny
    To find out if I might love.
    'Go and love, go and love, young man,
    If the lady be young and fair.'
    Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
    I am looped in the loops of her hair.

    O love is the crooked thing,
    There is nobody wise enough
    To find out all that is in it,
    For he would be thinking of love
    Till the stars had run away
    And the shadows eaten the moon.
    Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
    One cannot begin it too soon.

  • StarGirl
    13 years ago

    Soso- I've never read much by Mr. Poe but that was a great poem from him. Thanks for sharing ^_^

  • Melpomene
    12 years ago

    "The Road Not Taken" By Robert Frost. I've always been quite fond of this piece as it relates to everyone atleast once in their life.

    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
    Had worn them really about the same,

    And both that morning equally lay
    In leaves no step had trodden black.
    Oh, I kept the first for another day!
    Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
    I doubted if I should ever come back.

    I shall be telling this with a sigh
    Somewhere ages and ages hence:
    Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
    I took the one less traveled by,
    And that has made all the difference.

  • Beautiful Chaos
    12 years ago

    This is one of my favorites, I have a few and Bob already said The Raven lol I just randomly bought a book of Baudelaire's poetry one day and this is one of my favorites. I like his description and in some of his other pieces the gore lol

    THE TEMPTATION

    by: Charles Baudelaire

    HE Demon, in my chamber high,
    This morning came to visit me,
    And, thinking he would find some fault,
    He whispered: "I would know of thee

    Among the many lovely things
    That make the magic of her face,
    Among the beauties, black and rose,
    That make her body's charm and grace,

    Which is most fair?" Thou didst reply
    To the Abhorred, O soul of mine:
    "No single beauty is the best
    When she is all one flower divine.

    When all things charm me I ignore
    Which one alone brings most delight;
    She shines before me like the dawn,
    And she consoles me like the night.

    The harmony is far too great,
    That governs all her body fair,
    For impotence to analyse
    And say which note is sweetest there.

    O mystic metamorphosis!
    My senses into one sense flow--
    Her voice makes perfume when she speaks,
    Her breath is music faint and low!"

  • Poet on the Piano
    12 years ago

    Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening~Robert Frost

    Whose woods these are I think I know.
    His house is in the village though;
    He will not see me stopping here
    To watch his woods fill up with snow.
    My little horse must think it queer
    To stop without a farmhouse near
    Between the woods and frozen lake
    The darkest evening of the year.
    He gives his harness bells a shake
    To ask if there is some mistake.
    The only other sound's the sweep
    Of easy wind and downy flake.
    The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
    But I have promises to keep,
    And miles to go before I sleep,
    And miles to go before I sleep.

    I first came across this poem in sixth grade and ever since then I have enjoyed this beautiful poem.

    I also love "The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost, as someone posted earlier, it is such a brilliant piece of art.

  • ether
    12 years ago

    Under Her Dark Veil- Anna Akhmatova

    Under her dark veil she wrung her hands.
    "Why are you so pale today?"
    "Because I made him drink of stinging grief
    Until he got drunk on it.

    How can I forget? He staggered out,
    His mouth twisted in agony.
    I ran down not touching the bannister

    And caught up with him at the gate.
    I cried: 'A joke!
    That's all it was. If you leave, I'll die.'
    He smiled calmly and grimly
    And told me: 'Don't stand here in the wind.' "

  • HOLLY ARMER
    12 years ago

    Mirror by Sylvia Plath

    I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
    What ever you see I swallow immediately
    Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
    I am not cruel, only truthful---
    The eye of a little god, four-cornered.
    Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.
    It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long
    I think it is a part of my heart. But it flickers.
    Faces and darkness separate us over and over.
    Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me,
    Searching my reaches for what she really is.
    Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.
    I see her back, and reflect it faithfully.
    She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
    I am important to her. She comes and goes.
    Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.
    In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman
    Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.

  • Dark Savior
    12 years ago

    Really it depends. I like a lot of poems and consider a lot of different ones my favorite depending on my mood. Right now I'm enjoying reading this.

    There is a word
    by Emily Dickinson

    There is a word
    Which bears a sword
    Can pierce an armed man --
    It hurls its barbed syllables
    And is mute again --
    But where it fell
    The saved will tell
    On patriotic day,
    Some epauletted Brother
    Gave his breath away.

    Wherever runs the breathless sun --
    Wherever roams the day --
    There is its noiseless onset --
    There is its victory!
    Behold the keenest marksman!
    The most accomplished shot!
    Time's sublimest target
    Is a soul "forgot!

  • january friend
    12 years ago

    Annabel Lee & The Raven

    Edgar Allan Poe

  • january friend
    12 years ago

    Annabel Lee & The Raven

    Edgar Allan Poe

  • Ashleigh Skye
    12 years ago

    Anything by Walt Whitman

  • Empathy
    12 years ago

    The Soul Selects Her Own Society
    By Emily Dickinson

    The soul selects her own society,
    Then shuts the door;
    On her divine majority
    Obtrude no more.

    Unmoved, she notes the chariot's pausing
    At her low gate;
    Unmoved, an emperor is kneeling
    Upon her mat.

    I've known her from an ample nation
    Choose one;
    Then close the valves of her attention
    Like stone