Beauty poems
/ page 100 of 313 /
Point Joe
© Robinson Jeffers
Point Joe has teeth and has torn ships; it has fierce and solitary
beauty;
Walk there all day you shall see nothing that will not make part
of a poem.
The Lily of St Leonards
© Henry Lawson
O Lily of St Leonards!
And I was mad to roam
She died with loving words for me
Three days ere I came home.
The Sense Of Beauty
© Caroline Norton
Lo! at his pencil's touch steals faintly forth
(Like an uprising star in the cold north)
Some face which soon shall glow with beauty's fire:
Dim seems the sketch to those who stand around,
Dim and uncertain as an echoed sound,
But oh! how bright to him, whose hand thou dost inspire!
An Extempore
© John Keats
When they were come into Faery's Court
They rang -- no one at home -- all gone to sport
And dance and kiss and love as faerys do
For Faries be as human lovers true --
Forgotten Dead, I Salute You
© Muriel Stuart
Dawn has flashed up the startled skies,
Night has gone out beneath the hill
Dead Loves
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
WHENE'ER I think of old loves wall and dead,
Of passion's wine outpoured in senseless dust,
Of doomed affection's and long-buried trust,
Through all my soul an arctic gloom is shed;
Good Tidings; Or News From The Farm
© Robert Bloomfield
Where's the Blind Child, so admirably fair,
With guileless dimples, and with flaxen hair
Glorous Heart
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Swift and straight as homing dove,
Heedless, so its flight be flown,
All the full stream of thy love,
Love that knows no mortal bounding,
At Glan-y-Wern
© Arthur Symons
White-robed against the threefold white
Of shutter, glass and curtains' lace,
She flashed into the evening light
The brilliance of her gipsy face:
I saw the evening in her light.
Song of The Stream-Drops
© Archibald Lampman
By silent forest and field and mossy stone,
We come from the wooden hill, and we go to the sea.
We labour, and sing sweet songs, but we never moan,
For our mother, the sea, is calling us cheerily.
We have heard her calling us many and many a day
From the cool grey stones and the white sands far away.
The Bride Of The Nile - Act I
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Act I Governor's Palace at Alexandria.
Act II Garden House of the Makawkas at On.
Act III On the Banks of the Nile. Time, th Century, A.D.
The House Of Dust: Part 01: 05:
© Conrad Aiken
The snow floats down upon us, we turn, we turn,
Through gorges filled with light we sound and flow . . .
One is struck down and hurt, we crowd about him,
We bear him away, gaze after his listless body;
But whether he lives or dies we do not know.
The Wild Iris
© Madison Julius Cawein
That day we wandered 'mid the hills,-so lone
Clouds are not lonelier, the forest lay
In emerald darkness round us. Many a stone
And gnarly root, gray-mossed, made wild our way:
And many a bird the glimmering light along
Showered the golden bubbles of its song.
John Bede Polding
© Henry Kendall
With reverent eyes and bowed, uncovered head,
A son of sorrow kneels by fanes you knew;
But cannot say the words that should be said
To crowned and winged divinities like you.
The Past
© William Cullen Bryant
Thou unrelenting Past!
Strong are the barriers round thy dark domain,
And fetters, sure and fast,
Hold all that enter thy unbreathing reign.
Love Despised
© Madison Julius Cawein
Can one resolve and hunt it from one's heart?
This love, this god and fiend, that makes a hell
Dedication To Lady Windsor
© Alfred Austin
Where violets blue to olives gray
From furrows brown lift laughing eyes,
And silvery Mensola sings its way
Through terraced slopes, nor seeks to stay,
But onward and downward leaps and flies;
Sonnet I
© Caroline Norton
ON SEEING THE BUST OF THE YOUNG PRINCESS DE MONTFORT
(In the studio of Bartolini, at Florence).
SWEET marble I didst thou merely represent,
In lieu of her on whom our glances rest,
