List of 65 Examples of Alliteration in Poems
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|"Torn turned and tattered
Bowed burned and battered"
|The Labyrinth||Robert P. Baird|
|“A spot for the splendid birth
Of everlasting lives,
Whereto no night arrives;
And this gaunt gray gallery
A tabernacle of worth”
|In a Whispering Gallery||Thomas Hardy|
|"Or deeper a day or dance or doom bestride"||The Spider||Richard Eberhart|
|"Between the hands, between the brows,
Between the lips of Love-Lily"
|Love-Lily||Dante Gabriel Rossetti|
|"Seals, dozing sleek on sliddery ledges"||The Berg (A Dream)||Herman Melville|
|"A lumbering lubbard loitering slow"||The Berg (A Dream)||Herman Melville|
|"And bells, and buttons, and loops, and lace,
So that nobody ever could see the face
Of the Quangle Wangle Quee."
|The Quangle Wangle's Hat||Edward Lear|
|"And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea"||The Destruction of Sennacherib||Lord Byron (George Gordon)|
|"Beauty’s effect with beauty were bereft"||Sonnet 5||William Shakespeare|
|"Or frost to flowers that their gay wardrobe wear"||Lycidas||John Milton|
|"Better, then, the effort than preterite perfection"||Vowel Movements||Daryl Hine|
|"But Delilahs of darkness, darling,
and the muscle of the mind
|Kind of Blue||Lynn Powell|
|"We would sit down, and think which way
To walk, and pass our long love’s day."
|To His Coy Mistress||Andrew Marvell|
|"Call me Sweet Potato,
Sweet Pea, or Sweety Pie"
|Blues for X||George Elliott Clarke|
|"Cared-for till cock-crow"||A Grammarian's Funeral||Robert Browning|
|"Cloud-puffball, torn tufts, tossed pillows | flaunt forth, then chevy on an air"||That Nature is a Heraclitean Fire and of the comfort of the Resurrection||Gerard Manley Hopkins|
|"Color: blaze of day behind blank eyes."||Flores Woman||Tracy K. Smith|
|"Fly o’er waste fens and windy fields"||Sir Galahad||Alfred Lord Tennyson|
|"For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky
Lay dead like a load on my weary eye"
|The Rime of the Ancient Mariner||Samuel Taylor Coleridge|
|"From a sunlit state of innocence
where white sheets were hung
to dry like clouds over paradise"
|"From socks to shirts
the selves we shed"
|"Gladder to catch thee, than thou him."||The Bait||John Donne|
|"High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing"||The Windhover||Gerard Manley Hopkins|
|"I am hoping to hang your head"||I am Trying to Break Your Heart||Kevin Young|
|"I have no wit, no words, no tears"||A Better Resurrection||Christina Rossetti|
|"I heard it hitting the high leaves, and I was happy"||The Copper Beech||Marie Howe|
|"I'm the student who still believes
in the bad taste of the beautiful
and the sadness of songs."
|"Had seen the mice by moonlight play"||The Prisoner of Chillon||Lord Byron (George Gordon)|
in smooth still sun moves in
and out of synch
with the violin
playing at the villa"
|"Leveling, shaving on the bevel, the blade
and fanged scraper had summoned sleepers—
limestone loaves and blue slate, skulls of quartz"
|Scavenging the Wall||R. T. Smith|
|"they were made to be brushed back by the traffic of boxcars"||Tree Ferns||Stanley Plumly|
|"Narrow nightwatch nigh the ship's head"||The Seafarer||Ezra Pound|
|"No later light has lightened up my heaven"||Remembrance||Emily Brontë|
|"No novacaine? Nah. Then joke's on us, Jack:"||Tone Deficit||Kevin McFadden|
|"With darksome devouring eyes my bruisèd bones?"||Carrion Comfort||Gerard Manley Hopkins|
|"O soothest Sleep! if so it please thee"||To Sleep||John Keats|
|"O wandering water ever whispering?"||The Stream's Secret||Dante Gabriel Rossetti|
|O! wonderful for weight and whiteness!||Ode to a Blizzard||Tom Disch|
|"On meadow & river & wind-wandering weed-winding bank."||Binsey Poplars||Gerard Manley Hopkins|
|"postures of stillness and reserve
practiced cunning of the predator"
|A Cartography of Passions||Deborah Paredez|
|"Meteor-moons, balls of blaze: and they did not pale nor pine"||Abt Vogler||Robert Browning|
|"sandalled, cedarly, with scent of sandalwood haloing her"||Discourse on Pure Virtue||George Elliott Clarke|
|"Sat gray-hair'd Saturn, quiet as a stone"||Hyperion||John Keats|
|"So sung a little Clod of Clay"||The Clod and the Pebble||William Blake|
|"Something not sayable
spurting from the morning silence,
secret as a thrush."
|Winged and Acid Dark||Robert Hass|
|"Still, though scuttling forces flee"||Nightwatchman's Song||W. D. Snodgrass|
|"Such heat! It brings the brain back to its basic blank."||Pura Vida||John Updike|
|"That I could think there trembled through"||The Darkling Thrush||Thomas Hardy|
|"I am blind to other birds"||Tamer and Hawk||Thom Gunn|
|"And wait, and wait, a weary while"||The Flâneur||Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr.|
|"The next day, our house—
on its cinderblocks—seemed to float
in the flooded yard: no foundation"
|"The silence waits, wild to be broken by hoofbeat and heavy harness slap"||Stable||Claudia Emerson|
|"The Soul selects her own Society"||The Soul selects her own Society||Emily Dickinson|
|"Then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish"||Birches||Robert Frost|
my man's hands.
like a Wonder Woman blast"
|Love is Like a Faucet||Yolanda Wisher|
|"those no longer here to strike these
strings like secrets of the most
satisfying harmonies, as
voices join in sadness and joy"
|Mountain Dulcimer||Robert Morgan|
|"While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping"||The Raven||Edgar Allan Poe|
|"Lurk late. We
Strike straight. We"
|We Real Cool||Gwendolyn Brooks|
|"What strain o' the stuff, what warpings past the aim!"||Rabbi Ben Ezra||Robert Browning|
|"Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim"
|Pied Beauty||Gerard Manley Hopkins|
|"Whether or not shadows are of the substance
such is the expectation I can
wait to surprise my vision as a wind
enters the valley: sudden and silent"
|On Seeing the Wind at Hope Mansell||Geoffrey Hill|
|"Who is more happy, when, with heart's content"||To One Who Has Been Long in City Pent||John Keats|
|"Stroke and a stress that stars and storms deliver"||The Wreck of the Deutschland||Gerard Manley Hopkins|
|"You thumbed, thrust, patted and polished"||Youth and Art||Robert Browning|
|"Blazing, it vomits smudge-smoke. Your mind chars
Black because you yaw—moth-like—too near flames."
|Exile||George Elliott Clarke|