Success Poem

Find a success poem to inspire and motivate you. Let these poems give you opinions on the age-old question of what is success in this life. We all have different definitions of success. Does success mean having money? Or, is success possessions? Or, is success a job title? Is it winning? What does it mean?

Webster's Dictionary defines success as follows: "accomplishment, achievement (a person or thing which succeeds)". mean to succeed? Find answers to "what is success" in these poems. It may surprise you!

Ask yourself the question, at the end of your life what will you consider to be a successful life? Then ask yourself are you living that life today.

By Catherine Pulsifer, Updated August 26, 2024

Poems Of Encouragement / Success Poem

A famous poem about success. Reflect on the words of Ralph Waldo Emerson.
He expresses what he feels as winning in life

Success
Poet: Ralph Waldo Emerson

To laugh often and much;

To win the respect of intelligent people and
the affection of children;

To earn the appreciation of honest critics and
endure the betrayal of false friends;

To appreciate beauty,

To find the best in others,

To leave the world a bit better,
whether by a healthy child,
a garden patch or a redeemed social condition;

To know even one life has breathed easier
because you have lived.

This is to have succeeded.

Determination
Poet: Ethel L. Preble

Determination! Thou fore-runner of Success;
Thou life-breath of all great desire;
Thou art a power that few possess:
Thou art the spark which makes the fire!
The tenacious beach-grass, thou,
Which binds the shifting sands of idle thought,
And, —with that force which makes men bow —
Lo! In them a miracle is wrought!

Edgar A. Guest points out what is important when it comes to being successful at your work. Is it the job or is it you? Read these verses for thoughts on this.

The Job
Poet: Edgar A Guest

The job will not make you, my boy;
The job will not bring you to fame
Or riches or honor or joy
Or add any weight to your name.
You may fail or succeed where you are,
May honestly serve or may rob;
From the start to the end
Your success will depend
On just what you make of your job.

Don't look on the job as the thing
That shall prove what you're able to do;
The job does no more than to bring
A chance for promotion to you.
Men have shirked in high places and won
Very justly the jeers of the mob;
And you'll find it is true
That it's all up to you
To say what shall come from the job.

The job is an incident small;
The thing that's important is man.
The job will not help you at all
If you won't do the best that you can.
It is you that determines your fate,
You stand with your hand on the knob
Of fame's doorway to-day,
And life asks you to say
Just what you will make of your job.

You May Succeed At Last
Poet: J.J. Thorne

Passions and violence destroy labor,
But hope and energy is hard to blast;
Stick tight to your integrity,
You may succeed at last.

Think with care before you start,
Of your business and methods to cast;
Labor faithful with an honest heart.
You may succeed at last.

Personal vigilance is the price of prosperity,
Frugality saves without driving so fast;
Prate for rights but not ignore charity.
You may succeed at last.

Be a servant on virtue's ship,
When duty commands climb up the mast;
Pilot your way for security's shore,
You may succeed at last.

We are bound to regret our evils and wrongs,
And grieve of disobedience in the past;
Make hope and reformation humble songs,
You may succeed at last.

Life is trouble, trials are many,
A hero is he that completes his task;
Completion gives repose and awaits next duty,
You may succeed at last.

Time and eternity waits for no one,
Honor and duties are many and vast;
Pursue your way noble daughter and son,
You may succeed at last.

All blessings of God is bestowed upon Us,
We do not have to ask —
Beseech his mercy with humble hearts,
You may succeed at last.

The Keenest Pleasure
Poet: Strickland Gillilan

We are so built, we human things,
That we may touch joy's deepest springs
Now and again. We should be glad
That real pleasure may be had
From our accomplishment of what
Our brains conceived, our two hands wrought
But still the finest joy, indeed,
Is seeing some one else succeed.

'Tis only now and then that we
Can bring the longed-for thing to be
That we ourselves had planned and dreamed,
That we had plotted for and schemed.
So if our only triumphs come
When we have crowned with doing, some
Of our own plans, we miss a lot
Of earthly joy we might have got!

For all the time some one's succeeding
In some great thing that had been breeding
In mind and soul of him; and so
A sympathetic joy we know
When he brings triumph out of chaos
And with his vict'ry song would stay us.
This makes of earth a Neighborhood -
Our joy when some one else makes good.

Wise words by Marshal Foch. While these words were said many years ago, they still hold true today.

The Essentials of Success
by Marshal Foch, Said in 1922

He who hesitates is lost. He who moves forward wins.

The way not to move forward is by adopting the methods
of the board who ruthlessly pushes others aside that
he may reach the front of the crowd -
the self seeker, who tries to impress on everyone
that he is entitled to what he is not;
the nervous, arrogant man who cannot wait,
but who feels that if he does not reach the
front at once the world is lost for him.

The way to move forward is by patience, by earnest endeavor,
by diligent study, by tireless work.

Plan your battle of life in advance.
Map out every detail of what you want to accomplish and
then follow out your program.

No man who has been successful in life can
be counted as lucky.
His success has been due to his own effort.

Success is work and work is success.
The two are inseparable.

One of our favorite poems about success in life! At the end of the day, it is not your job, it is not money, but how we treat others, how we live that determines success!

Not In Vain
Poet: Emily Dickinson

If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.

As We Live
Poet: Ella Wheeler Wilcox

As we gaze up life's slope, as we gaze
In the morn, ere the dewdrops are dry,
What splendour hangs over the ways,
What glory gleams there in the sky,
What pleasures seem waiting us, high
On the peak of that beauteous slope,
What rainbow-hued colours of hope,
As we gaze!

As we climb up the hill, as we climb,
Our hearts, our illusions, are rent:
For Fate, who is spouse of old Time,
Is jealous of youth and content.
With brows that are brooding and bent
She shadows our sunlight of gold,
And the way grows lonely and cold
As we climb.

As we toil on, through trouble and pain,
There are hands that will shelter and feed;
But once let us dare to attain―
They will bruise our bare hearts till they bleed.
'Tis the worst of all crimes to succeed,
Know this as ye feast on a crust,
Know this in the darkness and dust,
Ye who climb.

As we stand on the heights of success,
Lo! success seems as sad as defeat!
Through the lives we may succour and bless
Alone may its bitter turn sweet!
And the world lying there at our feet,
With its cavilling praise and its sneer,
We must pity, condone, but not hear,
Where we stand.

As we live on those heights, we must live
With the courage and pride of a god;
For the world, it has nothing to give
But the scourge of the lash and the rod.
Our thoughts must be noble and broad,
Our purpose must challenge men's gaze,
While we seek not their blame or their praise
As we live.

Nod Their Heads And Say
Poet: Edgar A. Guest

This I would claim for my success—not fame nor gold,
Nor the throng's changing cheers from day to day,
Not always ease and fortune's glad display,
Though all of these are pleasant joys to hold;
But I would like to have my story told
By smiling friends with whom I've shared the way,
Who, thinking of me, nod their heads and say:

"His heart was warm when other hearts were cold.
"None turned to him for aid and found it not,
His eyes were never blind to man's distress,
Youth and old age he lived, nor once forgot
The anguish and the ache of loneliness;
His name was free from stain or shameful blot
And in his friendship men found happiness."

Success
Poet: John Kendrick Bangs

Success? What is this thing Success, I pray?
Is it to stand forth in the glare of day
As one who wins great battles in the marts
Without regard to human souls and hearts?
Is it to strive in blindness of the right
Toward and to achieve some goal of might
Wherefrom vast riches pour, huge stores of gold.
Into the coffers of the keen and bold?
Is it to win through trickery of phrase
And nice word polshments the Poet's bays,
Or laurels of the Masters of Romance,
Not by endeavor, but by stylist's chance?
Is it to trample by sheer force of will
O'er plodders for the right, o'er halt and ill?
To snatch some high position in the State,
To principle and honor runagate?
Is it to climb from lowly place to high
Regardless of the rungs of misery?

Or is it his who lives his mortal span
In all things striving to become a man?
To live as God hath willed, to use his brawn
To help another to some joyous dawn?
To use his strength, his valor and his wit
Shall say of his achievement small "Well done!'
So that, though riches small may come of it,
His fellows when his sands of life are run
Here falls a man we never knew to shirk;
The world is brighter for his modest work!
Ah, give to me not that Success that comes
Mixed in with others' tears, with sounding drums,
But better far the laurel that depends
Upon the love and honor of my friends.
Those bays the more securely e'er will rest
That come from those who understand us best;
The only ones are they that really bless
And form the measure of the true Success!

Is It Success?
Poet: Susie M. Best

Is it success to climb to eminence
Upon the ruins of another's hopes,
To gain the topping height at the expense
Of one condemned to slave on lower slope -
Is it success?

Is it success to lose in wealth's pursuit
The consciousness of right and self-respect,
Nor care, so gold become our labor's fruit.
How many noble principles are wrecked -
Is it success?

Is it success before the world to bear
A banner that is seeming free from spots.
And simultaneous in the bosom wear
A heart made hideous by secret blots -
Is it success?

The Thing We Call Success
Poet Unknown

Success is speaking words of praise,
In cheering other people's ways.
In doing just the best you can,
With every task and every plan.

It's silence when your speech would hurt,
Politeness when your neighbor's curt.
It's deafness when the scandal flows,
And sympathy with others' woes.

It's loyalty when duty calls,
It's courage when disaster falls.
It's patience when the hours are long,
It's found in laughter and in song.

It's in the silent time of prayer,
In happiness and in despair.
In all of life and nothing less,
We find the thing we call success.

Ask No More Than This
Poet: James Russell Lowell

And, for success, I ask no more than this:
To bear unflinching witness to the truth.
All true whole men succeed; for what is worth
Success's name unless it be the thought,
The inward surety, to have carried out
A noble purpose to a noble end,
Although it be the gallows or the block?
'Tis only Falsehood that doth ever need
These outward shows of gain to bolster her.

No Failure
Poet: C. C. Cameron

There is no failure, save in giving up
A little more persistence, courage vim
Success will dawn o'er failure's cloudy rim
Then take this honey for the bitterest cup;

There is no failure, save in giving up;
No real fall so long as one still tries,
For seeming setbacks make the strong man wise.
There's no defeat, in truth, save from within;
Unless you're beaten there, you're bound to win.

Success Defined
Poet: L. A. McCarthy

What is success? To gain a share of gold?
To have one's wealth in envious accents told?
To see one's picture flaunted in the press?
Ah, there be those who label this "success".

But have wc not another standard still
To judge a man of character and will?
Are gold and fame the only measures tried?
In all the world is there no test beside?

Ah, yes; the man who meets with courage grim
The daily duties that devolve on him,
The petty, mean, heart-breaking cares that tire
The patient soul that never may aspire -

How'er so cramped the field wherein he works,
He has not failed - the man who never shirks,
The man who toils for years without a break,
And treads the path of pain for others' sake.

Perfume Of His Life
Poet: Paul Laurence Dunbar

The world is a snob, and the man who wins
Is the chap for its money’s worth:
And the lust for success causes half of the sins
That are cursing this brave old earth.
For it’s fine to go up, and the world’s applause
Is sweet to the mortal ear;
But the man who fails in a noble cause
Is a hero that’s no less dear.

‘Tis true enough that the laurel crown
Twines but for the victor’s brow;
For many a hero has lain him down
With naught but the cypress bough.
There are gallant men in the losing fight,
And as gallant deeds are done
As ever graced the captured height
Or the battle grandly won.

We sit at life’s board with our nerves highstrung,
And we play for the stake of Fame,
And our odes are sung and our banners hung
For the man who wins the game.
But I have a song of another kind
Than breathes in these fame–wrought gales,
An ode to the noble heart and mind
Of the gallant man who fails!

The man who is strong to fight his fight,
And whose will no front can daunt,
If the truth be truth and the right be right,
Is the man that the ages want.
Tho’ he fail and die in grim defeat,
Yet he has not fled the strife,
And the house of Earth will seem more sweet
For the perfume of his life.