# Let's collect some tough, manly poetry **URL:** \ **Category:** Cafe Society\ **Created:** [November 11, 2010, 2:13pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302 "2010-11-11T14:13:11Z")\ **Posts on this page:** 20\ **Page:** 3
**Author:** ![tr0psn4j](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/t/958977/32.png) [@tr0psn4j](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/tr0psn4j)\ **Post date:** [November 11, 2010, 8:04pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/41 "2010-11-11T20:04:43Z")
Tough and manly? You clearly want some Hemingway. He’s the toughest and manliest! Don’t have one specifically but [here’s a link](http://www.bilgerdc.com/personal/hpoetry.html) that has a few on the page. ---
**Author:** ![tr0psn4j](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/t/958977/32.png) [@tr0psn4j](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/tr0psn4j)\ **Post date:** [November 11, 2010, 8:06pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/42 "2010-11-11T20:06:39Z")
> [@justrob](#): > > I know it doesn’t stack up against the real poets posted but I was quite proud of this haiku in High School. > > Quack said the duck. > Boom replied the hunters gun. > Down fell the duck, dead. > > -justrob > > Of course looking at it now I must be forgetting something as it’s 4-7-5 not 5-7-5. The quack obviously echoes, giving you the 5th syllable. ---
**Author:** ![sciurophobic](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/s/cab0a1/32.png) [@sciurophobic](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/sciurophobic)\ **Post date:** [November 11, 2010, 8:09pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/43 "2010-11-11T20:09:35Z")
[How They Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix](http://www.englishverse.com/poems/how_they_brought_the_good_news_from_ghent_to_aix) by Robert Browning. The first two stanzas: I SPRANG to the stirrup, and Joris, and he; I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three; ‘Good speed!’ cried the watch, as the gate-bolts undrew; ‘Speed!’ echoed the wall to us galloping through; Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest, And into the midnight we galloped abreast. Not a word to each other; we kept the great pace Neck by neck, stride by stride, never changing our place; I turned in my saddle and made its girths tight, Then shortened each stirrup, and set the pique right, Rebuckled the cheek-strap, chained slacker the bit, Nor galloped less steadily Roland a whit. ---
**Author:** ![Sitnam](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/s/6a8cbe/32.png) [@Sitnam](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Sitnam)\ **Post date:** [November 11, 2010, 8:11pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/44 "2010-11-11T20:11:21Z")
> [@astorian](#): > > Some more Kipling… > _ **The Young British Soldier** _ Beaten to it, damn! ---
**Author:** ![Sitnam](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/s/6a8cbe/32.png) [@Sitnam](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Sitnam)\ **Post date:** [November 11, 2010, 8:18pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/45 "2010-11-11T20:18:28Z")
**The Destruction of Sennacherib** The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green, That host with their banners at sunset were seen: Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown, That host on the morrow lay withered and strown. For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast, And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed; And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill, And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still! And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride; And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf, And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf. And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail: And the tents were all silent, the banners alone, The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown. And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail, And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal; And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword, Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord! – George Gordon, Lord Byron ---
**Author:** ![Northern\_Piper](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/northern_piper/32/5304_2.png) [@Northern\_Piper](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Northern_Piper)\ **Post date:** [November 11, 2010, 9:10pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/46 "2010-11-11T21:10:53Z")
[Ulysses](http://www.online-literature.com/donne/733/), by Tennyson It little profits that an idle king, By this still hearth, among these barren crags, Match’d with an aged wife, I mete and dole Unequal laws unto a savage race, That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me. I cannot rest from travel: I will drink Life to the lees: all times I have enjoy’d Greatly, have suffer’d greatly, both with those That loved me, and alone; on shore, and when Thro’ scudding drifts the rainy Hyades Vext the dim sea: I am become a name; For always roaming with a hungry heart Much have I seen and known; cities of men And manners, climates, councils, governments, Myself not least, but honour’d of them all; And drunk delight of battle with my peers, Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy. … The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends, ‘Tis not too late to seek a newer world. Push off, and sitting well in order smite The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths Of all the western stars, until I die. It may be that the gulfs will wash us down: It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles, And see the great Achilles, whom we knew. Tho’ much is taken, much abides; and tho’ We are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are; One equal temper of heroic hearts, Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield. ---
**Author:** ![Northern\_Piper](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/northern_piper/32/5304_2.png) [@Northern\_Piper](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Northern_Piper)\ **Post date:** [November 11, 2010, 9:15pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/47 "2010-11-11T21:15:40Z")
[Vitaï Lampada](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henry_Newbolt#Vita.C3.AF_Lampada) by Sir Henry Newbolt. May be in copyright, so just one verse: > [@](#): > > The sand of the desert is sodden red - > Red with the wreck of a square that broke > The gatling’s jammed and the colonel dead, > And the regiment blind with dust and smoke. > The river of death has brimmed its banks, > And England’s far, and Honour a name, > But the voice of a schoolboy rallies the ranks - > “Play up! Play up! And play the game!” ---
**Author:** ![Northern\_Piper](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/northern_piper/32/5304_2.png) [@Northern\_Piper](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Northern_Piper)\ **Post date:** [November 11, 2010, 9:23pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/48 "2010-11-11T21:23:22Z")
And of course, there’s [Henry V’s Crispian speech](http://shakespeare.mit.edu/henryv/henryv.4.3.html), by old Will: **WESTMORELAND** O that we now had here But one ten thousand of those men in England That do no work to-day! **KING HENRY V** What’s he that wishes so? My cousin Westmoreland? No, my fair cousin: If we are mark’d to die, we are enow To do our country loss; and if to live, The fewer men, the greater share of honour. God’s will! I pray thee, wish not one man more. By Jove, I am not covetous for gold, Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost; It yearns me not if men my garments wear; Such outward things dwell not in my desires: But if it be a sin to covet honour, I am the most offending soul alive. No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England: God’s peace! I would not lose so great an honour As one man more, methinks, would share from me For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more! Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host, That he which hath no stomach to this fight, Let him depart; his passport shall be made And crowns for convoy put into his purse: We would not die in that man’s company That fears his fellowship to die with us. This day is called the feast of Crispian: He that outlives this day, and comes safe home, Will stand a tip-toe when the day is named, And rouse him at the name of Crispian. He that shall live this day, and see old age, Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours, And say ‘To-morrow is Saint Crispian:’ Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars. And say ‘These wounds I had on Crispin’s day.’ Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot, But he’ll remember with advantages What feats he did that day: then shall our names. Familiar in his mouth as household words Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter, Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester, Be in their flowing cups freshly remember’d. This story shall the good man teach his son; And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by, From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remember’d; We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For he to-day that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile, This day shall gentle his condition: And gentlemen in England now a-bed Shall think themselves accursed they were not here, And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day. ---
**Author:** ![Northern\_Piper](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/northern_piper/32/5304_2.png) [@Northern\_Piper](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Northern_Piper)\ **Post date:** [November 11, 2010, 9:36pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/49 "2010-11-11T21:36:17Z")
And then there’s [a piece](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/We_shall_fight_on_the_beaches) which I’ve heard described as a poem in blank verse, particularly appropriate for today: [QUOTE=The Lion of England] We shall not flag or fail. We shall go on to the end. We shall fight in France, we shall fight on the seas and oceans, we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, we shall defend our island, whatever the cost may be. We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender. [/QUOTE] ---
**Author:** ![ITR\_champion](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/i/c67d28/32.png) [@ITR\_champion](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/ITR_champion)\ **Post date:** [November 11, 2010, 9:44pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/50 "2010-11-11T21:44:33Z")
A short one by Chesterton, entitled **For a War Memorial** : \*The hucksters haggle in the mart The cars and carts go by; Senates and schools go droning on; For dead things cannot die. A storm stooped on the place of tombs With bolts to blast and rive; But these be names of many men The lightning found alive. If usurers rule and rights decay And visions view once more Great Carthage like a golden shell Gape hollow on the shore, Still to the last of crumbling time Upon this stone be read How many men of England died To prove they were not dead.\* * * * I’m pretty sure the copyright’s gone on everything that Chesterton wrote, but in any case the entirety of [The Last Hero](http://www.gkc.org.uk/gkc/books/last_hero.html) is right here, and you should definitely read it. ---
**Author:** ![MarcusF](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/m/67e7ee/32.png) [@MarcusF](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/MarcusF)\ **Post date:** [November 11, 2010, 9:50pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/51 "2010-11-11T21:50:34Z")
how about some Masefield? Just the first verse of [Sea Fever](http://www.theotherpages.org/poems/masef01.html): _I MUST go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky, And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by, And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking, And a gray mist on the sea’s face, and a gray dawn breaking._ ---
**Author:** ![Apollyon](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/apollyon/32/4238_2.png) [@Apollyon](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Apollyon)\ **Post date:** [November 12, 2010, 12:37am UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/52 "2010-11-12T00:37:56Z")
My father will at the drop of a hat – practically any hat – recite **[Lochinvar](http://unix.cc.wmich.edu/~cooneys/poems/Scott.Lochinvar.html)** (itself an excerpt from Sir Walter Scott’s poem Marmion). The poem tells of the gallant young Knight Lochinvar turning up at the wedding of his beloved – a woman whose family rebuffed his suit, and has married her off to another – and well… (Note for **twickster** : Marmion was published in 1808). > [@Sir Walter Scott](#): > > O young Lochinvar is come out of the west, > Through all the wide Border his steed was the best; > And save his good broadsword he weapons had none, > He rode all unarm’d, and he rode all alone. > So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, > There never was knight like the young Lochinvar. > > He staid not for brake, and he stopp’d not for stone, > He swam the Eske river where ford there was none; > But ere he alighted at Netherby gate, > The bride had consented, the gallant came late: > For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war, > Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar. > > So boldly he enter’d the Netherby Hall, > Among bride’s-men, and kinsmen, and brothers and all: > Then spoke the bride’s father, his hand on his sword, > (For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word,) > “O come ye in peace here, or come ye in war, > Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?” > > “I long woo’d your daughter, my suit you denied; – > Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide – > And now I am come, with this lost love of mine, > To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine. > There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far, > That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar.” > > The bride kiss’d the goblet: the knight took it up, > He quaff’d off the wine, and he threw down the cup. > She look’d down to blush, and she look’d up to sigh, > With a smile on her lips and a tear in her eye. > He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar, – > “Now tread we a measure!” said young Lochinvar. > > So stately his form, and so lovely her face, > That never a hall such a gailiard did grace; > While her mother did fret, and her father did fume > And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume; > And the bride-maidens whisper’d, “'twere better by far > To have match’d our fair cousin with young Lochinvar.” > > One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear, > When they reach’d the hall-door, and the charger stood near; > So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung, > So light to the saddle before her he sprung! > “She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur; > They’ll have fleet steeds that follow,” quoth young Lochinvar. > > There was mounting 'mong Graemes of the Netherby clan; > Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran: > There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee, > But the lost bride of Netherby ne’er did they see. > So daring in love, and so dauntless in war, > Have ye e’er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar? ---
**Author:** ![elfkin477](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/e/a9a28c/32.png) [@elfkin477](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/elfkin477)\ **Post date:** [November 12, 2010, 4:07am UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/53 "2010-11-12T04:07:43Z")
> [@pravnik](#): > > Wilfred Owen, [Dulce et Decorum Est](http://www.warpoetry.co.uk/owen1.html). Definitely. Another that immediately springs to mind is “I Sing of Olaf, glad and big” by EE Cummings. i sing of Olaf glad and big whose warmest heart recoiled at war: a conscientious object-or his wellbelovéd colonel(trig westpointer most succinctly bred) took erring Olaf soon in hand; but–though an host of overjoyed noncoms(first knocking on the head him)do through icy waters roll that helplessness which others stroke with brushes recently employed anent this muddy toiletbowl, while kindred intellects evoke allegiance per blunt instruments– Olaf(being to all intents a corpse and wanting any rag upon what God unto him gave) responds,without getting annoyed “I will not kiss your fucking flag”… the rest of the poem can be found [here](http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15408) ---
**Author:** ![Beware\_of\_Doug](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/b/278dde/32.png) [@Beware\_of\_Doug](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Beware_of_Doug)\ **Post date:** [November 12, 2010, 4:23am UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/54 "2010-11-12T04:23:36Z")
**An Abandoned Factory, Detroit** The gates are chained, the barbed-wire fencing stands, An iron authority against the snow, And this grey monument to common sense Resists the weather. Fears of idle hands, Of protest, men in league, and of the slow Corrosion of their minds, still charge this fence. Beyond, through broken windows one can see Where the great presses paused between their strokes And thus remain, in air suspended, caught In the sure margin of eternity. The cast-iron wheels have stopped; one counts the spokes Which movement blurred, the struts inertia fought, And estimates the loss of human power, Experienced and slow, the loss of years, The gradual decay of dignity. Men lived within these foundries, hour by hour; Nothing they forged outlived the rusted gears Which might have served to grind their eulogy. – Philip Levine ---
**Author:** ![Zsofia](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/z/7bcc69/32.png) [@Zsofia](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Zsofia)\ **Post date:** [November 12, 2010, 4:40am UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/55 "2010-11-12T04:40:43Z")
Somebody linked to “Dulce et Decorum Est”, but there’s another Wilfred Owen poem appropriate to the day: What passing-bells for these who die as cattle? Only the monstrous anger of the guns. Only the stuttering rifles’ rapid rattle Can patter out their hasty orisons. No mockeries for them; no prayers nor bells, Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs, - The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells; And bugles calling for them from sad shires. What candles may be held to speed them all? Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes Shall shine the holy glimmers of good-byes. The pallor of girls’ brows shall be their pall; Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds, And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds. Much more appropriate than Flander’s Fields, considering the last verse of the latter that suggests the cause remains noble. ---
**Author:** ![Sam\_A.Robrin](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/sam_a.robrin/32/14497_2.png) [@Sam\_A.Robrin](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Sam_A.Robrin)\ **Post date:** [November 12, 2010, 3:40pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/56 "2010-11-12T15:40:49Z")
> [@WordMan](#): > > Why is it that I want the examples to be short? Maybe because I equate “tough” and “manly” with not a lot of talk. And yes, I appreciate the irony of my username within that context. Maybe I should update to “Manly WordMan” or “WordManly” :p:D > > **Deeds Not Words** - a motto used by some regiments, etc. - just seems perfect as a manly phrase loaded with poetic nuance. Well, it’s been said that the shortest poem in existence is: **FLEAS** Adam Had 'em. But I came up with a yet shorter poem, that, ironically, serves as an even better title to that one: Eve’s Leaves. ---
**Author:** ![Rocketeer](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/rocketeer/32/4437_2.png) [@Rocketeer](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Rocketeer)\ **Post date:** [November 12, 2010, 4:22pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/57 "2010-11-12T16:22:18Z")
> [@Dewey\_Finn](#): > > Another one for Veterans Day (first stanza only): > > In Flanders fields the poppies blow > Between the crosses, row on row, > That mark our place; and in the sky > The larks, still bravely singing, fly > Scarce heard amid the guns below. > > _In Flanders Fields_, John McCrae Paul Fussell says, and I agree, that the problem with Flanders Fields is that the poem starts out anti-war, and then in the last verse (“…the torch we throw…”) turns into a pro-war poem. It does have lovely imagery, though; a classic poem if ever there was one. ---
**Author:** ![Rocketeer](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/rocketeer/32/4437_2.png) [@Rocketeer](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Rocketeer)\ **Post date:** [November 12, 2010, 4:23pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/58 "2010-11-12T16:23:55Z")
> [@Zsofia](#): > > Somebody linked to “Dulce et Decorum Est”, but there’s another Wilfred Owen poem appropriate to the day… Great, great poetry. What a shame he died in the war. ---
**Author:** ![Sitnam](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/s/6a8cbe/32.png) [@Sitnam](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Sitnam)\ **Post date:** [November 12, 2010, 4:39pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/59 "2010-11-12T16:39:03Z")
**HENRY V** While not nearly as famous as the St. Crispin’s Day speech I always thought his response to the French King’s Messenger was cold blooded as hell, if Don Corleone had been alive in Elizabethan England he would have sounded like this: KING HENRY V What treasure, uncle? EXETER Tennis-balls, my liege. KING HENRY V We are glad the Dauphin is so pleasant with us; His present and your pains we thank you for: When we have march’d our rackets to these balls, We will, in France, by God’s grace, play a set Shall strike his father’s crown into the hazard. Tell him he hath made a match with such a wrangler That all the courts of France will be disturb’d With chaces. And we understand him well, How he comes o’er us with our wilder days, Not measuring what use we made of them. We never valued this poor seat of England; And therefore, living hence, did give ourself To barbarous licence; as 'tis ever common That men are merriest when they are from home. But tell the Dauphin I will keep my state, Be like a king and show my sail of greatness When I do rouse me in my throne of France: For that I have laid by my majesty And plodded like a man for working-days, But I will rise there with so full a glory That I will dazzle all the eyes of France, Yea, strike the Dauphin blind to look on us. And tell the pleasant prince this mock of his Hath turn’d his balls to gun-stones; and his soul Shall stand sore charged for the wasteful vengeance That shall fly with them: for many a thousand widows Shall this his mock mock out of their dear husbands; Mock mothers from their sons, mock castles down; And some are yet ungotten and unborn That shall have cause to curse the Dauphin’s scorn. But this lies all within the will of God, To whom I do appeal; and in whose name Tell you the Dauphin I am coming on, To venge me as I may and to put forth My rightful hand in a well-hallow’d cause. So get you hence in peace; and tell the Dauphin His jest will savour but of shallow wit, When thousands weep more than did laugh at it. Convey them with safe conduct. Fare you well. ---
**Author:** ![pulykamell](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/pulykamell/32/3166_2.png) [@pulykamell](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/pulykamell)\ **Post date:** [November 12, 2010, 5:30pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302/60 "2010-11-12T17:30:55Z")
Pretty much anything by Charles Bukowski. [Previous page](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302.md?page=2) [Next page](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/lets-collect-some-tough-manly-poetry/560302.md?page=4)