Updated: April 26, 2024
10 Greatest Poems Ever Written
An Ambitious “Best Poems” List Limited to Poems Originally
Written in English and of 50 Lines or Less
by Evan Mantyk
What is poetry? What is great poetry? The poems below answer these questions. From least greatest (10) to greatest greatest (1), the poems in this list are limited to ones originally written in the English language and which are 50 lines or less, excluding poems like Homer’s Iliad, Edgar Allan Poe’s “Raven,” Dante Alighieri’s Divine Comedy, and Lord Byron’s mock epic Don Juan. Each poem is followed by some brief analysis. Many good poems and poets had to be left off of this list. In the comments section below, feel free to make additions or construct your own lists. You can also submit analyses of classic poetry to [email protected]. They will be considered for publication on this website.
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10. “The Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost (1874-1963)
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.
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Analysis of the Poem
This poem deals with that big noble question of “How to make a difference in the world?” On first reading, it tells us that the choice one makes really does matter, ending: “I took the one less traveled by, / And that has made all the difference.”
A closer reading reveals that the lonely choice that was made earlier by our traveling narrator maybe wasn’t all that significant since both roads were pretty much the same anyway (“Had warn them really about the same”) and it is only in the remembering and retelling that it made a difference. We are left to ponder if the narrator had instead traveled down “The Road Not Taken” might it have also made a difference as well. In a sense, “The Road Not Taken” tears apart the traditional view of individualism, which hinges on the importance of choice, as in the case of democracy in general (choosing a candidate), as well as various constitutional freedoms: choice of religion, choice of words (freedom of speech), choice of group (freedom of assembly), and choice of source of information (freedom of press). For example, we might imagine a young man choosing between being a carpenter or a banker later seeing great significance in his choice to be a banker, but in fact there was not much in his original decision at all other than a passing fancy. In this, we see the universality of human beings: the roads leading to carpenter and banker being basically the same and the carpenters and bankers at the end of them—seeming like individuals who made significant choices—really being just part of the collective of the human race.
Then is this poem not about the question “How to make a difference in the world?” after all? No. It is still about this question. The ending is the most clear and striking part. If nothing else, readers are left with the impression that our narrator, who commands beautiful verse, profound imagery, and time itself (“ages and ages hence”) puts value on striving to make a difference. The striving is reconstituted and complicated here in reflection, but our hero wants to make a difference and so should we. That is why this is a great poem, from a basic or close reading perspective.
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9. “The New Colossus” by Emma Lazarus (1849-1887)
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
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Analysis of the Poem
Inscribed on the Statue of Liberty in New York harbor, this sonnet may have the greatest placement of any English poem. It also has one of the greatest placements in history. Lazarus compares the Statue of Liberty to the Colossus of Rhodes, one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. Like the Statue of Liberty, the Colossus of Rhodes was an enormous god-like statue positioned in a harbor. Although the Colossus of Rhodes no longer stands, it symbolizes the ancient Greek world and the greatness of the ancient Greek and Roman civilization, which was lost for a thousand years to the West, and only fully recovered again during the Renaissance. “The New Colossus” succinctly crystallizes the connection between the ancient world and America, a modern nation. It’s a connection that can be seen in the White House and other state and judicial buildings across America that architecturally mirror ancient Greek and Roman buildings; and in the American political system that mirrors Athenian Democracy and Roman Republicanism.
In the midst of this vast comparison of the ancient and the American, Lazarus still manages to clearly render America’s distinct character. It is the can-do spirit of taking those persecuted and poor from around the world and giving them a new opportunity and hope for the future, what she calls “the golden door.” It is a uniquely scrappy and compassionate quality that sets Americans apart from the ancients. The relevance of this poem stretches all the way back to the pilgrims fleeing religious persecution in Europe to the controversies surrounding modern immigrants from Mexico and the Middle East. While circumstances today have changed drastically, there is no denying that this open door was part of what made America great once upon a time. It’s the perfect depiction of this quintessential Americanness that makes “The New Colossus” also outstanding.
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8. “Ozymandias” by Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822)
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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Analysis of the Poem
In this winding story within a story within a poem, Shelley paints for us the image of the ruins of a statue of ancient Egyptian king Ozymandias, who is today commonly known as Ramesses II. This king is still regarded as the greatest and most powerful Egyptian pharaoh. Yet, all that’s left of the statue are his legs, which tell us it was huge and impressive; the shattered head and snarling face, which tell us how tyrannical he was; and his inscribed quote hailing the magnificent structures that he built and that have been reduced to dust, which tells us they might not have been quite as magnificent as Ozymandias imagined. The image of a dictator-like king whose kingdom is no more creates a palpable irony. But, beyond that there is a perennial lesson about the inescapable and destructive forces of time, history, and nature. Success, fame, power, money, health, and prosperity can only last so long before fading into “lone and level sands.”
There are yet more layers of meaning here that elevate this into one of the greatest poems. In terms of lost civilizations that show the ephemeralness of human pursuits, there is no better example than the Egyptians—who we associate with such dazzling monuments as the Sphinx and the Great Pyramid at Giza (that stands far taller than the Statue of Liberty)—yet who completely lost their spectacular language, culture, and civilization. If the forces of time, history, and nature can take down the Egyptian civilization, it begs the question, “Who’s next?” Additionally, Ozymandias is believed to have been the villainous pharaoh who enslaved the ancient Hebrews and who Moses led the exodus from. If all ordinary pursuits, such as power and fame, are but dust, what remains, the poem suggests, are spirituality and morality—embodied by the ancient Hebrew faith. If you don’t have those then in the long run you are a “colossal wreck.” Thus, the perfectly composed scene itself, the Egyptian imagery, and the Biblical backstory convey a perennial message and make this a great poem.
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7. “Ode on a Grecian Urn” by John Keats (1795-1821)
Thou still unravish’d bride of quietness,
Thou foster-child of silence and slow time,
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express
A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:
What leaf-fring’d legend haunts about thy shape
Of deities or mortals, or of both,
In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?
What men or gods are these? What maidens loth?
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?
What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?
Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear’d,
Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:
Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal yet, do not grieve;
She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,
For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!
Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed
Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu;
And, happy melodist, unwearied,
For ever piping songs for ever new;
More happy love! more happy, happy love!
For ever warm and still to be enjoy’d,
For ever panting, and for ever young;
All breathing human passion far above,
That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy’d,
A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.
Who are these coming to the sacrifice?
To what green altar, O mysterious priest,
Lead’st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,
And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?
What little town by river or sea shore,
Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,
Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn?
And, little town, thy streets for evermore
Will silent be; and not a soul to tell
Why thou art desolate, can e’er return.
O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede
Of marble men and maidens overwrought,
With forest branches and the trodden weed;
Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought
As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral!
When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say’st,
“Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.”
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Analysis of the Poem
As if in response to Shelley’s “Ozymandias,” Keats’s “Ode on a Grecian Urn” offers a sort of antidote to the inescapable and destructive force of time. Indeed, “Ode on a Grecian Urn” was published in 1819 just a year or so after “Ozymandias.” The antidote is simple: art. The art on the Grecian urn—which is basically a decorative pot from ancient Greece—has survived for thousands of years. While empires rose and fell, the Grecian urn survived. Musicians, trees, lovers, heifers, and priests all continue dying decade after decade and century after century, but their artistic depictions on the Grecian urn live on for what seems eternity.
This realization about the timeless nature of art is not new now nor was it in the 1800s, but Keats has chosen a perfect example since ancient Greek civilization so famously disappeared into the ages, being subsumed by the Romans, and mostly lost until the Renaissance a thousand years later. Now, the ancient Greeks are all certainly dead (like the king Ozymandias in Shelley’s poem) but the Greek art and culture live on through Renaissance painters, the Olympic Games, endemic Neoclassical architecture, and, of course, the Grecian urn.
Further, what is depicted on the Grecian urn is a variety of life that makes the otherwise cold urn feel alive and vibrant. This aliveness is accentuated by Keats’s barrage of questions and blaring exclamations: “More happy love! more happy, happy love!” Art, he seems to suggest, is more alive and real than we might imagine. Indeed, the last two lines can be read as the urn itself talking: “Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all / Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.” In these profound lines, Keats places us within ignorance, suggesting that what we know on earth is limited, but that artistic beauty, which he has now established is alive, is connected with truth. Thus, we can escape ignorance, humanness, and certain death and approach another form of life and truth through the beauty of art. This effectively completes the thought that began in Ozymandias and makes this a great poem one notch up from its predecessor.
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6. “The Tiger” by William Blake (1757-1827)
Tiger Tiger, burning bright,
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies.
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder, and what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? and what dread feet?
What the hammer? what the chain,
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp,
Dare its deadly terrors clasp!
When the stars threw down their spears
And water’d heaven with their tears:
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
Tiger Tiger burning bright,
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
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Analysis of the Poem
This poem contemplates a question arising from the idea of creation by an intelligent creator. The question is this: If there is a loving, compassionate God or gods who created human beings and whose great powers exceed the comprehension of human beings, as many major religions hold, then why would such a powerful being allow evil into the world. Evil here is represented by a tiger that might, should you be strolling in the Indian or Chinese wild in the 1700s, have leapt out and killed you. What would have created such a dangerous and evil creature? How could it possibly be the same divine blacksmith who created a cute harmless fluffy lamb or who created Jesus, also known as the “Lamb of God” (which the devoutly Christian Blake was probably also referring to here). To put it another way, why would such a divine blacksmith create beautiful innocent children and then also allow such children to be slaughtered. The battery of questions brings this mystery to life with lavish intensity.
Does Blake offer an answer to this question of evil from a good God? It would seem not on the surface. But, this wouldn’t be a great poem if it were really that open ended. The answer comes in the way that Blake explains the question. Blake’s language peels away the mundane world and offers a look at the super-reality to which poets are privy. We fly about in “forests of the night” through “distant deeps or skies” looking for where the fire in the tiger’s eye was taken from by the Creator. This is the reality of expanded time, space, and perception that Blake so clearly elucidates elsewhere with the lines “To see a world in a grain of sand / And a heaven in a wild flower, / Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, / And eternity in an hour” (“Auguries of Innocence”). This indirectly tells us that the reality that we ordinarily know and perceive is really insufficient, shallow, and deceptive. Where we perceive the injustice of the wild tiger something else entirely may be transpiring. What we ordinarily take for truth may really be far from it: a thought that is scary, yet also sublime or beautiful—like the beautiful and fearsome tiger. Thus, this poem is great because it concisely and compellingly presents a question that still plagues humanity today, as well as a key clue to the answer.
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5. “On His Blindness” by John Milton (1608-1674)
When I consider how my light is spent
Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide
Lodg’d with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest he returning chide,
“Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?”
I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies: “God doth not need
Either man’s work or his own gifts: who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed
And post o’er land and ocean without rest:
They also serve who only stand and wait.”
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Analysis of the Poem
This poem deals with one’s limitations and shortcomings in life. Everyone has them and Milton’s blindness is a perfect example of this. His eyesight gradually worsened and he became totally blind at the age of 42. This happened after he served in an eminent position under Oliver Cromwell’s revolutionary Puritan government in England. To put it simply, Milton rose to the highest position an English writer might at the time and then sank all the way down to a state of being unable read or write on his own. How pathetic!
The genius of this poem comes in the way that Milton transcends the misery he feels. First, he frames himself, not as an individual suffering or lonely, but as a failed servant to the Creator: God. While Milton is disabled, God here is enabled through imagery of a king commanding thousands. This celestial monarch, his ministers and troops, and his kingdom itself are invisible to human eyes anyway, so already Milton has subtly undone much of his failing by subverting the necessity for human vision. More straightforwardly, through the voice of Patience, Milton explains that serving the celestial monarch only requires bearing those hardships, which really aren’t that bad (he calls them “mild”) that life has burdened you with (like a “yoke” put on an ox). This grand mission from heaven may be as simple as standing and waiting, having patience, and understanding the order of the universe. Thus, this is a great poem because Milton has not only dispelled sadness over a major shortcoming in life but also shown how the shortcoming is itself imbued with an extraordinary and uplifting purpose.
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4. “A Psalm of Life” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)
What the heart of the young man said to the Psalmist
Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each tomorrow
Find us farther than today.
Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.
In the world’s broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!
Trust no Future, howe’er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act,—act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o’erhead!
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;—
Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o’er life’s solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.
Analysis of the Poem
In this nine-stanza poem, the first six stanzas are rather vague since each stanza seems to begin a new thought. Instead, the emphasis here is on a feeling rather than a rational train of thought. What feeling? It seems to be a reaction against science, which is focused on calculations (“mournful numbers”) and empirical evidence, of which there is no, or very little, to prove the existence of the soul. Longfellow lived when the Industrial Revolution was in high gear and the ideals of science, rationality, and reason flourished. From this perspective, the fact that the first six stanzas do not follow a rational train of thought makes perfect sense.
According to the poem, the force of science seems to restrain one’s spirit or soul (“for the soul is dead that slumbers”), lead to inaction and complacency from which we must break free (“Act,—act in the living Present! / Heart within, and God o’erhead!”) for lofty purposes such as Art, Heart, and God before time runs out (“Art is long, and Time is fleeting”). The last three stanzas—which, having broken free from science by this point in the poem, read more smoothly—suggest that this acting for lofty purposes can lead to greatness and can help our fellow man.
We might think of the entire poem as a clarion call to do great things, however insignificant they may seem in the present and on the empirically observable surface. That may mean writing a poem and entering it into a poetry contest, when you know the chances of your poem winning are very small; risking your life for something you believe in when you know it is not popular or it is misunderstood; or volunteering for a cause that, although it may seem hopeless, you feel is truly important. Thus, the greatness of this poem lies in its ability to so clearly prescribe a method for greatness in our modern world.
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3. “Daffodils” by William Wordsworth (1770-1850)
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
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Analysis of the Poem
Through the narrator’s chance encounter with a field of daffodils by the water, we are presented with the power and beauty of the natural world. It sounds simple enough, but there are several factors that contribute to this poem’s greatness. First, the poem comes at a time when the Western world is industrializing and man feels spiritually lonely in the face of an increasingly godless worldview. This feeling is perfectly harnessed by the depiction of wandering through the wilderness “lonely as a cloud” and by the ending scene of the narrator sadly lying on his couch “in vacant or in pensive mood” and finding happiness in solitude. The daffodils then become more than nature; they become a companion and a source of personal joy. Second, the very simplicity itself of enjoying nature—flowers, trees, the sea, the sky, the mountains etc.—is perfectly manifested by the simplicity of the poem: the four stanzas simply begin with daffodils, describe daffodils, compare daffodils to something else, and end on daffodils, respectively. Any common reader can easily get this poem, as easily as her or she might enjoy a walk around a lake.
Third, Wordsworth has subtly put forward more than just an ode to nature here. Every stanza mentions dancing and the third stanza even calls the daffodils “a show.” At this time in England, one might have paid money to see an opera or other performance of high artistic quality. Here, Wordsworth is putting forward the idea that nature can offer similar joys and even give you “wealth” instead of taking it from you, undoing the idea that beauty is attached to earthly money and social status. This, coupled with the language and topic of the poem, which are both relatively accessible to the common man, make for a great poem that demonstrates the all-encompassing and accessible nature of beauty and its associates, truth and bliss.
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2. “Holy Sonnet 10: Death, Be Not Proud” by John Donne (1572-1631)
Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul’s delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell’st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.
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Analysis of the Poem
Death is a perennial subject of fear and despair. But, this sonnet seems to say that it need not be this way. The highly focused attack on Death’s sense of pride uses a grocery list of rhetorical attacks: First, sleep, which is the closest human experience to death, is actually quite nice. Second, all great people die sooner or later and the process of death could be viewed as joining them. Third, Death is under the command of higher authorities such as fate, which controls accidents, and kings, who wage wars; from this perspective, Death seems no more than a pawn in a larger chess game within the universe. Fourth, Death must associate with some unsavory characters: “poison, wars, and sickness.” Yikes! They must make unpleasant coworkers! (You can almost see Donne laughing as he wrote this.) Fifth, “poppy and charms” (drugs) can do the sleep job as well as Death or better. Death, you’re fired!
The sixth, most compelling, and most serious reason is that if one truly believes in a soul then Death is really nothing to worry about. The soul lives eternally and this explains line 4, when Donne says that Death can’t kill him. If you recognize the subordinate position of the body in the universe and identify more fully with your soul, then you can’t be killed in an ordinary sense. Further, this poem is so great because of its universal application. Fear of death is so natural an instinct and Death itself so all-encompassing and inescapable for people, that the spirit of this poem and applicability of it extends to almost any fear or weakness of character that one might have. Confronting, head on, such a fear or weakness, as Donne has done here, allows human beings to transcend their condition and their perception of Death, more fully perhaps than one might through art by itself—as many poets from this top ten list seem to say—since the art may or may not survive may or may not be any good, but the intrinsic quality of one’s soul lives eternally. Thus, Donne leaves a powerful lesson to learn from: confront what you fear head on and remember that there is nothing to fear on earth if you believe in a soul.
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1. “Sonnet 18” by William Shakespeare (1564-1616)
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,
By chance, or nature’s changing course, untrimm’d;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander’st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st;
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
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Analysis of the Poem
Basically, the narrator tells someone he esteems highly that this person is better than a summer’s day because a summer’s day is often too hot and too windy, and especially because a summer’s day doesn’t last; it must fade away just as people, plants, and animals die. But, this esteemed person does not lose beauty or fade away like a summer’s day because he or she is eternally preserved in the narrator’s own poetry. “So long lives this, and this gives life to thee” means “This poetry lives long, and this poetry gives life to you.”
From a modern perspective this poem might come off as pompous (assuming the greatness of one’s own poetry), arbitrary (criticizing a summer’s day upon what seems a whim), and sycophantic (praising someone without substantial evidence). How then could this possibly be number one? After the bad taste of an old flavor to a modern tongue wears off, we realize that this is the very best of poetry. This is not pompous because Shakespeare actually achieves greatness and creates an eternal poem. It is okay to recognize poetry as great if it is great and it is okay to recognize an artistic hierarchy. In fact, it is absolutely necessary in educating, guiding, and leading others. The attack on a summer’s day is not arbitrary. Woven throughout the language is an implicit connection between human beings, the natural world (“a summer’s day”), and heaven (the sun is “the eye of heaven”). A comparison of a human being to a summer’s day immediately opens the mind to unconventional possibilities; to spiritual perspectives; to the ethereal realm of poetry and beauty. The unabashed praise for someone without a hint as to even the gender or accomplishments of the person is not irrational or sycophantic. It is a pure and simple way of approaching our relationships with other people, assuming the best. It is a happier way to live—immediately free from the depression, stress, and cynicism that creeps into our hearts. Thus, this poem is strikingly and refreshingly bold, profound, and uplifting.
Finally, as to the question of overcoming death, fear, and the decay of time, an overarching question in these great poems, Shakespeare adroitly answers them all by skipping the question, suggesting it is of no consequence. He wields such sublime power that he is unmoved and can instead offer remedy, his verse, at will to those he sees befitting. How marvelous!
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Best poems ever!!:)
Poem Number 3 Touches My Heart.
What if I really enjoy writing poetry like this? You said that Shakespeare’s Sonnet to Hamnet is “Pompous” “Arbitrary” and whatnot. Well, what if I really like to write poems in this style? Does that make me pompous? Maybe I like the style of poetry, and think modern poetry is full of hubris and arbitrariness.
Frankly, the modern taste is a pissing mannequin. I think if poetry is rebellion, going back to the classical style is as much of a rebellion against the modern era as there can be. As I find modern poets Kitsch. Robert Frost’s poem is okay, yet according to modern literary analyses, the poem is just about taking a walk in the park, and does not mean anything about making a decision. That’s real literary theory going on right now. I think you ought to reconsider this idea that Shakespeare is stale. There’s nothing stale about him. If you’d just read him and understand he’s singing about the death of his son—who probably died while courting a woman, and died because he was black—then we wouldn’t be sitting here calling his praise to his son arbitrary. It even mentions how Hamnet will be immortalized in verse.
For a classical society, there’s not much class.
Woww!
Isn’t it beautiful just to read this. and your analysis is just what we needed next!
Beautiful work Evan!
thank you for taking time to do this!
This is definitely an amazing collection but I believe that everyone has a different perspective of analyzing a piece of poetry. So, coming up with a single meaning is not just and it often hinders the feelings with which a poets writes his poetry. Poems are worth feeling than understanding and no poem is great or the greatest its just the reader’s connection with it that makes it great.
What an enhancing afternoon, to get some ideas, learn some history and feel such enlightenment with the poem about daffodils. Very good..GO
The English Poems are so good to read if someone understands the meaning. Well written.
Woww!
Isn’t it beautiful just to read this. and your analysis is just what we needed next!
Beautiful work Evan!
Thank you so much for taking time to do this!
Though all are the great poems but what seems to me is of Robert Frost. His poems always appeal me and especially this poems ‘The Road Not Taken”. When you read this poems it feels that it is urging us to follow our dreams the roads you afraid to go on while you must. And this line “I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference”, is all the courage and motivation.
Thanks for providing such amazing poems.
“I absolutely loved reading this post about the 10 greatest poems ever written. As a lover of literature, I appreciate the care and consideration that went into selecting these works. Each poem on this list is a masterpiece in its own right, and it’s wonderful to see such a diverse range of writers and styles represented. From the epic scale of Dante’s ‘The Divine Comedy’ to the intimate beauty of Emily Dickinson’s ‘Because I could not stop for Death,’ these poems have the power to move, inspire, and transform us. Reading them is like taking a journey through the history of human experience, and I feel privileged to have been introduced to these incredible works. Thank you for sharing this list – it’s a true treasure trove for any lover of poetry.”
Thank you for showcasing the beauty of the natural world through your blog. Your vivid descriptions and stunning photography transport me to breathtaking landscapes and awaken a deep appreciation for our planet’s wonders.
Thanks for sharing high value and informative article with us.
Thanks, you for sharing such a beautiful poem.
I absolutely loved reading this post about the 10 greatest poems ever written. As a lover of literature, I appreciate the care and consideration that went into selecting these works. Each poem on this list is a masterpiece in its own right, and it’s wonderful to see such a diverse range of writers and styles represented. From the epic scale of Dante’s ‘The Divine Comedy’ to the intimate beauty of Emily Dickinson’s ‘Because I could not stop for Death,’ these poems have the power to move, inspire, and transform us. Reading them is like taking a journey through the history of human experience, and I feel privileged to have been introduced to these incredible works. Thank you for sharing this list – it’s a true treasure trove for any lover of poetry.
This sonnet is not only a celebration of the beloved’s enduring beauty but also serves as a testament to the power of poetry itself, as it immortalizes the beloved’s beauty in the verses of the poem.
This has to be one of my favorite posts! And on top of thats its also very helpful topic for newbies. thank a lot for the info!
These are not the top 10 greatest poems ever written. They are not even all “good” poems, to say the very least. It would take revelation from God to know the top 10 greatest poems ever written. Only God knows and can reveal this.
But as a Christian I know certain things and because God has revealed the truth to me about this. The number one greatest poem ever written is in the Bible (the Authorized King James), and is called, The Song of Songs. It is both literally and allegorically true.
Also it is worth noting that a poem cannot be hundreds of pages long. “The Divine Comedy”, by Dante, or “The Faerie Queen”, by Spencer, are not poems; because they are far too long to be poems. Edgar Poe also believed this and made a good point about it. What such works may be are a collection of very many poems. Now, in the case of Dante’s work, I’d like to point out, it is blasphemous, and a heap of rubbish. It is a work of vanity, showing his evil mind. Don’t mistake skill in writing for goodness or greatness. Many have or have had great skill in writing but that doesn’t mean that what is produced is great or even good. The popularity of a poem also is not proof that a poem is even good.
Richard, thanks for sharing your opinions. If the Song of Songs is truly the greatest poem ever written, surely it would be in the original Hebrew. I had not heard that a poem cannot be hundreds of pages long. Does that mean that the cutoff point is 199 pages to qualify as a poem?
I do agree that, as the epitome of goodness and greatness, only God could compile the list of the greatest poems ever written, however since you seem to have a pretty good understanding of Him, maybe you could make a short list of the greatest poems ever written in the English language for our edification.
Who knows, the editor might publish it!
I did not share my opinions but knowledge. If I thought they were opinions, I would have said so. 🙂 I have no doubt because I believe in God who showed me. But I am not attempting to prove anything here as that would be impossible. I just wanted to make the statement of facts as I know them.
Of course, The Song of Songs is written in the Hebrew language as being the greatest poem of all. It was called, “The Song of Songs,” in ancient Hebrew, and was translated into English. Its very title is saying that it is the greatest poem of all. But one would have to accept the divine inspiration of the Bible to believe that.
A poem can be “long”, but what is meant by “long”? The Song of Songs is a long poem but it is 2,651 words long in English, and that means a few pages. A poem can’t be “long” by definition in the sense that Edgar Poe stated. He made the point that a poem (in his experience) which takes longer than half an hour to read begins to become a tedium rather than a delight, which destroys the poem from being a poem. I don’t think that one can say that a poem can’t be more than half an hour in the reading. I don’t think we can make a rule or an exact cut off point. But it is certainly impossible for a poem to be hundreds of pages long or even a hundred pages long. A poem is not a novel or like a novel, for it has to be a kind of song. Is a novel a song? One cannot sing a song that is a hundred pages long. There can be no sustained emotion for that long. Such lengthy works either fail as poems or break into a series of poems. The Faerie Queen for instance is clearly a great multitude of poems. To call it a poem is in ignorance of what defines a poem. Although Edgar Poe’s essay isn’t perfect or telling all the truth about poetry, he does bring forth a true point about this. (Who but God can define poetry perfectly?) If you want to read his essay, you can find it online. It is called, “The Poetic Principle”. I quote from a statement online concerning the essay: “He also argues against the concept of a long poem, saying that an epic, if it is to be worth anything, must instead be structured as a collection of shorter pieces, each of which is not too long to be read in a single sitting.” But then, how long is a single sitting? One can only determine if a poem is too long by reading it and see if it destroys itself in the process of being too long. I know for example, The Song of Hiawatha, by Longfellow, certainly destroys itself by being too long. About half way, interest in the said poem is lost.
As for my understanding of what the 10 greatest poems are, I do know, but they are not all in the English language. However I would only subject myself to ridicule (as I could not prove anything) by proclaiming them, and the editor certainly would not accept my list!
If you get to heaven, you will find out eventually anyhow. It won’t be such a long wait. 🙂
Sir, you obviously did not read the article. If you had, I’m sure you would have a completely different set of complaints. There are plenty of readers that might appreciate your take on the ten greatest poems in any language. Like I said, write it up and send it to Evan. First, though, read the article above. Thanks for your interest.
There’s always somebody who wants to turn this place into Piety Corner. But when they also claim that they have a direct link to God, Who tells them the proper aesthetic views on the value of poems, their proper length, and the very best poem of all (in the specific translation given in a 1611 edition), then you know you’re dealing with a crackpot.
To Mike Bryant:
Sir, your reply does not even make sense. I would not have “a completely different set of complaints”. And you did not listen to what I wrote at all. I told you why I would not send my list to Evan or give you my list. The list above is completely ignorant and people don’t even know how to define a poem, much less assess the greatness of one. Is there any proof of why the list above is greater than many other poems? Is it because pagan critics said so? One has to believe in God and the Bible to even have a good understanding. It’s totally ignorant to ignore the Bible and uphold pagan ideas of what great poetry is, and which God has no esteem for.
To Joseph S. Salemi
I am not a “crackpot”. A crackpot is someone who thinks there is no God and believes in evolution. But to think there is a God who does not communicate, or is not willing to reveal things, is silly.
Sir, your reply does not even make sense. I would not have “a completely different set of complaints”. And you did not listen to what I wrote at all. I told you why I would not send my list to Evan or give you my list. The list above is completely ignorant and people don’t even know how to define a poem, much less assess the greatness of one. Is there any proof of why the list above is greater than many other poems? Is it because pagan critics said so? One has to believe in God and the Bible to even have a good understanding. It’s totally ignorant to ignore the Bible and uphold pagan ideas of what great poetry is, and which God has no esteem for.
Mr. Paulson, this is not a religious website. Persons of many different faiths (and non-faiths) come here to post material and join in discussions. We re not obliged to follow your dictates about what kind of poetry God likes.
Are you saying then that this site is an irreligious website? But Donne’s “religious” or Christian view of death being destroyed is even in one of the poems quoted above. And you did not object to that. Your words are so foolish and totally irrelevant to what I wrote. I did not ask you to believe me, but I made a statement which I should be free to make. I stated that I disagree with the list above. There is no reason at all for me to believe the list above of the alleged 10 greatest poems ever written either universally or in English is correct. I did not make any dictates (authoritative orders or commands). I simply told my convictions and made a point about what a poem is or is not (which agrees with Edgar Poe, that what are called epic poems are falsely so-called.) How do you know I am wrong in any way? You don’t. So you are making a useless and false reply to me.
Poems that are excellently written, whether religious in theme or not, can be enjoyed by anyone, religious or not. An atheist architect can admire the beauty and craftsmanship of a cathedral, and an agnostic can enjoy the religious poetry of Milton or Donne.
When I say that this is not a religious website, that does NOT mean that it is an irreligious one. It means that anyone of any opinion or faith can come here and post poems or make comments. The SCP is not connected with any denomination or church or sect. It is simply dedicated to traditional English verse. Is that so hard for you to understand?
Yes, you did express your opinion concerning the ten poems chosen to be on the list. But that is not all you did. You also made absurd statements about poetry in general, insisting that all good poems must be short, and that universally acclaimed epics like the Iliad, the Odyssey, and other classic works are not really poetry, and that God “showed” you the truth of these statements. You also made the idiotic statement that Dante’s poetry is “blasphemous” and “a heap of rubbish” produced by someone with an “evil mind,” and that the only valid version of the Bible is the 1611 King James translation.
Frankly, these statements show that you are more than a crackpot. You are a Low-Church Protestant fanatic of the sort who inhabit the backwoods area of the Bible belt.
I did not make any idiotic statements at all. And I did not give any opinions. I said God revealed to me the truth. You should just be silent, if you had any sense at all. But you can’t, because it is obvious that you do not believe in God, because you are a fool. You think that it is impossible for God to reveal or communicate to someone. That makes you completely stupid. You are stupid because you do not believe in God. And you are stupid in thinking God would not communicate if he does exist and that someone could know things others do not know through seeking God. But God is the only way anyone can really know anything at all. Moreover, you cannot disprove ANYTHING I said. So why are you even writing to me? If you don’t think I am correct, that is only your opinion, but you have not proven anything you have said. You derided me from the very beginning. So why are you still talking? You are a crackpot who knows nothing.
The work of Dante is blasphemous indeed. Have you read the whole Bible? Do you understand Christian doctrine? No. Well Dante indeed was blasphemous in his views and his so-called “Divine Comedy” therefore is a heap of rubbish. Do you think popular opinion makes me wrong? Is popular opinion where your confidence lies? Certainly, because you are an idiot who is not able to think and come to truth for himself. It doesn’t matter that Dante could write skillfully, for that does not make a work great. But why am I writing to a fool? You can’t be told anything. You are too much of an idiot to understand the truth.
I did not need your permission to write here. Could you at least understand that? But your foolishness prompts you to continue to write nothing but silly and empty words.
Congratulations, Paulson. You have revealed to us, in a glaringly florid manner, that you are a complete jackass.
Why don’t you write a book telling the world about all the truths that God has personally told you? I’m sure there must be quite a few of them, on many subjects.
To Joseph S. Salemi.
“But your foolishness prompts you to continue to write nothing but silly and empty words.”
A “complete jackass” is not someone who writes reasonably as I have done. A complete jackass is someone who like you falsely and wrongly and personally insults and mocks without proving anything.
To Mike Bryant:
I did read the article above. The article does not even make sense. The title is wrongly called, “The 10 greatest poems ever written”. Also because there is a following explanation that this only is referring to poems written in English and which are “under” 50 lines. So this is a contradiction if it is only referring to English poems. And why only limit it to poems under 50 lines? That is a further contradiction. And also it is not even technically accurate. The poem by Keats is 50 lines and not “under” 50 lines, which therefore has to be excluded. But given all of this, if you are to assess the 10 greatest poems only written in English and under 50 lines, I still don’t agree with the list. And why would I be offered to make my own list of the 10 greatest poems ever written in English if there is any truth in the title of this article? So this is wholly nonsensical.
Dear Richard Paulson,
Thank you for catching the error. The language has been changed to 50 lines or less. What is listed above is only my opinion, though it happens to be the case that I am the Editor and President of the SCP. We have many other top ten lists written by others that I do not 100% agree with. They can be found here: https://classicalpoets.org/category/best-poems/
Feel free to post a poem you like or post a list of poems you like in the comments section here, or contact me at [email protected] if you are interested in contributing a piece of prose or poetry for publication.
Kind regards,
Evan Mantyk
Thanks Evan for your reply. But I think you should change the title also, because it is misleading and the title is not saying the truth. Because you are only referring to English poems of a certain length the title really can’t be called, “10 greatest poems ever written”. How can this be the title if you are only referring to short poems and which are only in English?
As for my poems, I had sent you one poem years ago, and so I do not think you will give my poetry the place it deserves. The truth is that those who should know better either still don’t understand poetry well enough or are more likely too envious to respond to me. Also, properly assessing poetry is a matter of knowing God. It does stir me up when I recognize the eternal poems that are in the Bible not being regarded, and someone like Shakespeare, whose poetry is earthy and not “eternal”, being esteemed above all. The true “eternal poems” will exist even when the earth and heaven pass away. And there are so few of them in existence.
Thank you, Richard, for your attention to the presentation, which I have updated based on your feedback. A clarifying subtitle has been added.
Regarding your own poetry, it may interest you that virtually all of the poets you see appear frequently on the SCP’s website have received feedback, edited their work, and had some of their works rejected… this includes myself as a poet as well. Do not be discouraged from participating. You may seek constructive feedback from others you know or, if you become an SCP Member (by purchasing our newest Journal), then I can give you feedback on your work directly.
From what I understand, there are a number of Christian poetry sites on the internet. If you feel the world view present at this website anathema to yours, you may consider checking those sites out.
—Evan Mantyk
To Richard Paulson,
I have endured your critique of the aforementioned article, and frankly, I find your pedantry as exhausting as it is predictable. While you seem quite proud of your ability to count to fifty, you have entirely missed the forest for the sake of a few singular trees.
First, to address your “contradiction” regarding the English language: it is a standard, albeit unspoken, convention in Western journalism that a title must be punchy. Had the author titled it “A Subjective Compendium of Ten Notable Verses Originally Composed in the English Tongue Not Exceeding a Specific Line Count,” the only person reading it would be someone with as much idle time as yourself.
As for your obsession with the Keats inclusion – it is fifty lines exactly. To disqualify a masterpiece over a single line of verse is not “technical accuracy”; it is the height of bureaucratic joylessness. One wonders if you enjoy the poetry at all, or if you simply view literature as a series of spreadsheets to be audited.
Furthermore, the invitation for you to compose your own list was not an admission of the article’s failure, but rather a polite – if clearly misplaced – gesture of intellectual inclusivity. If the list were an objective “truth,” as you so strangely demand, it would be a mathematical formula, not an art form.
If you find the parameters “nonsensical,” perhaps you would be better suited to reading a dictionary. The alphabetizing is consistent, the constraints are rigid, and I suspect the lack of emotional depth would suit your temperament perfectly.
Regards,
Ellis Smith
“But your foolishness prompts you to continue to write nothing but silly and empty words.”
A “complete jackass” is not someone who writes reasonably as I have done. A complete jackass is someone who like you falsely and wrongly and personally insults and mocks without proving anything.
In case of misunderstanding, the above comment is meant only for Joseph S. Salemi. It was accidently published twice.
What a fantastic collection of poetry! Evan Mantyk’s selection and analysis of the “10 Greatest Poems Ever Written” are truly insightful and thought-provoking. Each poem captures the essence of its theme and offers deep reflections on human nature, life, and the world around us. From Robert Frost’s contemplation of choices in “The Road Not Taken” to the powerful imagery and historical significance of Emma Lazarus’s “The New Colossus,” this list covers a wide range of emotions and ideas.
The detailed analyses provided for each poem help readers appreciate the nuances and depth that might be missed at first glance. Mantyk’s ability to convey the universal relevance of these classic poems is commendable. This collection not only honors the timeless beauty of poetry but also invites readers to engage with these masterpieces on a deeper level. Thank you, Evan Mantyk, for curating such an enriching and inspiring list!
This is an excellent list.
“Ozymandias” and “Death Be Not Proud” were already in my Top 4, which includes “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” and my No. 1, “The Ecchoing Green,” by William Blake.
As far as Shakespeare sonnets, I rate No. 18 as 4th, after 116, 29 and 30.
Based on reconsideration inspired by your list, I have added “The New Colossus” to my Top 10.