Beauty poems
/ page 132 of 313 /Wisdom
© Ernest Christopher Dowson
Love wine and beauty and the spring,
While wine is red and spring is here,
And through the almond blossoms ring
The dove-like voices of thy Dear.
The Lemmings
© John Masefield
Once in a hundred years the Lemmings come
Westward, in search of food, over the snow;
Sydney Nocturnes.
© Arthur Henry Adams
From The North Shore.
TO Day she would not show her charms;
But now the Night beseeches,
A white reproach of wistful arms
The Martyrs
© Archibald Lampman
Yet still across life's tangled storms we see,
Following the cross, your pale procession led,
One hope, one end, all others sacrificed,
Self-abnegation, love, humility,
Your faces shining toward the bended head,
The wounded hands and patient feet of Christ.
Among The Millet
© Archibald Lampman
The dew is gleaming in the grass,
The morning hours are seven,
And I am fain to watch you pass,
Ye soft white clouds of heaven.
Threnodia Augustalis: Overture - A Solemn Dirge
© Oliver Goldsmith
ARISE, ye sons of worth, arise,
And waken every note of woe;
When truth and virtue reach the skies,
'Tis ours to weep the want below!
Of The Son of Man
© George MacDonald
I. I honour Nature, holding it unjust
To look with jealousy on her designs;
An Old Lesson From The Fields
© Archibald Lampman
Oh, light, I cried, and, heaven, with all your blue,
Oh, earth, with all your sunny fruitfulness,
And ye, tall lillies, of the wind-vexed field,
What power and beauty life indeed might yield,
Could we but cast away its conscious stress,
Simple of heart, becoming even as you.
Life From The Lifeless
© Robinson Jeffers
Spirits and illusions have died,
The naked mind lives
In the beauty of inanimate things.
The Snowdrop In The Snow
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
O full of Faith! The Earth is rock,-the Heaven
The dome of a great palace all of ice,
The Song Of Hiawatha XII: The Son Of The Evening Star
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Can it be the sun descending
O'er the level plain of water?
Love
© Alexander Smith
THE fierce exulting worlds, the motes in rays,
The churlish thistles, scented briers,
The wind-swept bluebells on the sunny braes,
Down to the central fires,
The Water Witch
© Madison Julius Cawein
See! the milk-white doe is wounded.
He will follow as it bounds
Sonnet 77: Those Looks, Whose Beams Be Joy
© Sir Philip Sidney
Those looks, whose beams be joy, whose motion is delight,
That face, whose lecture shows what perfect beauty is:
That presence, which doth give dark hearts a living light:
That grace, which Venus weeps that she herself doth miss:
The Vision of the Rock
© Charles Harpur
I SATE upon a lonely peak,
A backwood rivers course to view,
The Lily
© Albert Durrant Watson
Still to that love I am turning
Though beyond reach of my yearning;
And never the vision shall vanish
Nor time nor eternity banish
That dream so splendid of love and tears
That still transfigures the lonely years.
Song.Thou wert lovely
© Louisa Stuart Costello
Thou wert lovely to my sight,
When in yonder dell I found thee
In thy radiant beauty bright,
Though a desert spread around thee;
Like the heath-bell's purple flower,
Shrinking from a dewy shower.
The Surrender Of Spain
© John Hay
Land of unconquered Pelayo! land of the Cid Campeador!
Sea-girdled mother of men! Spain, name of glory and power;
Cradle of world-grasping Emperors, grave of the reckless invader,
How art thou fallen, my Spain! how art thou sunk at this hour!
Sonnet Of Motherhood VI
© Zora Bernice May Cross
O, let my body be your souls delight,
Your mirror true of Beauty most-esteemed,
That looking on its form your lips breathe low:
This is herself, her soul within my sight.
So read it over as a book you dreamed
In boyhoods fancy many a year ago.