Beauty poems
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London I
© Bell Julian Heward
The melancholy verse Sings to the waterfall; Wring writing harsh and worse, The jarring beauties fall.
The Minstrel; or, The Progress of Genius
© James Beattie
THE FIRST BOOK (excerpts) The steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar! Ah! who can tell how many a soul sublime Hath felt the influence of malignant star, And wag'd with Fortune an eternal war! Check'd by the scoff of Pride, by Envy's frown, And Poverty's unconquerable bar, In life's low vale remote hath pin'd aloneThen dropt into the grave, unpitied and unknown!
And yet, the languor of inglorious days Not equally oppressive is to all
To Mrs. P********, with some Drawings of Birds and Insects
© Anna Lætitia Barbauld
The kindred arts to please thee shall conspire,One dip the pencil, and one string the lyre. (Pope)
When Aurelia First I Courted
© Anonymous
When Aurelia first I courted,She had youth and beauty too,Killing pleasures when she sported,And her charms were ever new;Conquering time doth now deceive her,Which her glories did uphold,All her arts can ne'er retrieve her,Poor Aurelia's growing old
If I Ever Marry, I'll Marry A Maid
© Anonymous
If ever I marry, I'll marry a maid;To marry a widow, I am sore afraid:For maids they are simple, and never will grutch,But widows full oft, as they say, know too much.
Beauty Sat Bathing by a Spring
© Anonymous
Beauty sat bathing by a spring, Where fairest shades did hide her;The winds blew calm, the birds did sing, The cool streams ran beside her
Ay Me, Ay Me, I Sigh the Scythe A-field
© Anonymous
Ay me, ay me, I sigh to see the scythe a-field; Down goeth the grass, soon wrought to wither'd hay:Ay me, alas! ay me, alas, that beauty needs must yield, And princes pass, as grass doth fade away.
The Pleasures of Imagination
© Mark Akenside
BOOK IOf Nature touches the consenting heartsOf mortal men; and what the pleasing storesWhich beauteous imitation thence derivesTo deck the poet's, or the painter's toil;My verse unfolds
Glory To God Alone
© William Cowper
Oh loved! but not enough--though dearer far
Than self and its most loved enjoyments are;
None duly loves thee, but who, nobly free
From sensual objects, finds his all in thee.
The Burning Of The Leaves
© Robert Laurence Binyon
The last hollyhock's fallen tower is dust;
All the spices of June are a bitter reek,
All the extravagant riches spent and mean.
All burns! The reddest rose is a ghost;
Sparks whirl up, to expire in the mist: the wild
Fingers of fire are making corruption clean.
Vanity Fair
© Sylvia Plath
Through frost-thick weather
This witch sidles, fingers crooked, as if
Caught in a hazardous medium that might
Merely by its continuing
Attach her to heaven.
"The Undying One" - Canto III
© Caroline Norton
"I went through the world, but I paused not now
At the gladsome heart and the joyous brow:
I went through the world, and I stay'd to mark
Where the heart was sore, and the spirit dark:
And the grief of others, though sad to see,
Was fraught with a demon's joy to me!
Epipsychidion
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Sweet Spirit! Sister of that orphan one,
Whose empire is the name thou weepest on,
In my heart's temple I suspend to thee
These votive wreaths of withered memory.
Before Sleep
© Archibald Lampman
Now the creeping nets of sleep
Stretch about and gather nigh,
And the midnight dim and deep
Like a spirit passes by,
Trailing from her crystal dress
Dreams and silent frostiness.
The Nuptials Of Attila
© George Meredith
Hatred of that abject slave,
Earth, was in each chieftain's heart.
Earth has got him, whom God gave,
Earth may sing, and earth shall smart!
Attila, my Attila!
Vaudracour And Julia
© William Wordsworth
O HAPPY time of youthful lovers (thus
My story may begin) O balmy time,
In which a love-knot on a lady's brow
Is fairer than the fairest star in heaven!
