Beauty poems
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When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom'd
© Walt Whitman
When lilacs last in the door-yard bloomd,
And the great star early droopd in the western sky in the night,
I mourndand yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring.
The Bas Bleu: Or, Conversation. Addressed To Mrs. Vesey
© Hannah More
VESEY, of Verse the judge and friend,
Awhile my idle strain attend:
From Evangeline
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
All was ended now, the hope, and the fear, and the sorrow,
All the aching of heart, the restless, unsatisfied longing,
All the dull, deep pain, and constant anguish of patience!
And, as she pressed once more the lifeless head to her bosom,
Meekly she bowed her own, and murmured,
Father, I thank thee!
Land-Locked
© Celia Thaxter
Black lie the hills; swiftly doth daylight flee;
And, catching gleams of sunset's dying smile,
Through the dusk land for many a changing mile
The river runneth softly to the sea.
Summer Toils
© Kristijonas Donelaitis
"Of course, it is not nice for a gray-headed man,
To be shamed by the work of a young nincompoop,
When he intends to get more dollars for his pay,
And e'en is not ashamed to pry out more seed grain.
O what became of the bewhiskered Prussian days,
When hired help was so cheep and so obedient?
Cadenus And Vanessa
© Jonathan Swift
THE shepherds and the nymphs were seen
Pleading before the Cyprian Queen.
The counsel for the fair began
Accusing the false creature, man.
Sonnet: Beauty Of Her Face
© Dante Alighieri
For certain he hath seen all perfectness
Who among other ladies hath seen mine:
A Visit To Renelagh
© Robert Bloomfield
To Ranelagh, once in my life,
By good-natur'd force I was driv'n;
Fontinella To Florinda
© Jonathan Swift
When on my bosom thy bright eyes,
Florinda, dart their heavenly beams,
I feel not the least love surprise,
Yet endless tears flow down in streams;
There's nought so beautiful in thee,
But you may find the same in me.
On The Purple And White Carnation
© Caroline Norton
She spoke, and wept; and the echo again
Repeated the curse, but all in vain--
The tyrant laughed as he fluttered away,
Spreading his rainbow wings to the day,
And settling at random his feathered darts
To spoil sweet flowers, or break fond hearts.
How the Melbourne Cup was Won
© Henry Kendall
In the beams of a beautiful day,
Made soft by a breeze from the sea,
To A Lady Knitting
© Edgar Albert Guest
Little woman, hourly sitting,
Something for a soldier knitting,
Mist And Frost
© Duncan Campbell Scott
Veil-like and beautiful
Gathered the dutiful
Mist in the night,
True to the messaging,
Dreamful and presaging
Vapour and light.
Sonnet Of Motherhood XLV
© Zora Bernice May Cross
Kiss me. Kiss her. The miracle is wrought
The simple beauty out of simple love
Mother and father, child and Godall One
Eternal trinity for ever sought.
O, blessed from her quiet place above,
Your mother kisses usa lifes work done.
The Emigrant
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
FAREWELL, ah, happy shades! ah, scenes belov'd,
Of infant sports and bright unclouded hours!
Where oft in childhood's happy days I rov'd,
Thro' forest-walks, and wild secluded bow'rs!
Don Juan: Canto The Fourteenth
© George Gordon Byron
If from great nature's or our own abyss
Of thought we could but snatch a certainty,
The Visionary Boy
© William Lisle Bowles
Oh! lend that lute, sweet Archimage, to me!
Enough of care and heaviness
Condolatory Address To Sarah, Countess Of Jersey, On The Prince Regent's Returning Her Picture To Mr
© George Gordon Byron
When the vain triumph of the imperial lord,
Whom servile Rome obey'd, and yet abhorr'd,
Gave to the vulgar gaze each glorious bust,
That left a likeness of the brave or just;
