Beauty poems
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To A Child Shut In A Bedroom
© Aline Murray Kilmer
DEAR, O desolate bright head!
O drooping mouth and shaken chin!
470. SongShe says she loes me best of a
© Robert Burns
SAE flaxen were her ringlets,
Her eyebrows of a darker hue,
Bewitchingly oer-arching
Twa laughing een o lovely blue;
The First Part: Sonnet 4 - Fair is my yoke, though grievous be my pains,
© William Henry Drummond
Fair is my yoke, though grievous be my pains,
Sweet are my wounds, although they deeply smart,
338. SongMy Tochers the Jewel
© Robert Burns
O MEIKLE thinks my luve o my beauty,
And meikle thinks my luve o my kin;
But little thinks my luve I ken brawlie
My tochers the jewel has charms for him.
539. SongO thats the lassie o my heart
© Robert Burns
O WAT ye wha that loes me
And has my heart a-keeping?
O sweet is she that loes me,
As dews o summer weeping,
In tears the rosebuds steeping!
277. SongMy Eppie Adair
© Robert Burns
Chorus.An O my Eppie, my jewel, my Eppie,
Wha wad na be happy wi Eppie Adair?
312. Elegy on the late Miss Burnet of Monboddo
© Robert Burns
LIFE neer exulted in so rich a prize,
As Burnet, lovely from her native skies;
Nor envious death so triumphd in a blow,
As that which laid th accomplishd Burnet low.
On The Number Three
© Thomas Parnell
Beauty rests not in one fix'd Place,
But seems to reign in every Face;
To Will H. Low
© Robert Louis Stevenson
This is unborn beauty: she
Now in air floats high and free,
Takes the sun and breaks the blue;--
Late with stooping pinion flew
428. SongPhillis the Queen o the fair
© Robert Burns
ADOWN winding Nith I did wander,
To mark the sweet flowers as they spring;
Adown winding Nith I did wander,
Of Phillis to muse and to sing.
262. Delia: An Ode
© Robert Burns
FAIR the face of orient day,
Fair the tints of opning rose;
But fairer still my Delia dawns,
More lovely far her beauty shows.
550. SongA Lass wi a Tocher
© Robert Burns
AWA wi your witchcraft o Beautys alarms,
The slender bit Beauty you grasp in your arms,
O, gie me the lass that has acres o charms,
O, gie me the lass wi the weel-stockit farms.
Sonnet 25: The Wisest Scholar
© Sir Philip Sidney
The wisest scholar of the wight most wise
By Phoebus' doom, with sugar'd sentence says,
That Virtue, if it once met with our eyes,
Strange flames of love it in our souls would raise;
Upon A Looking Glass
© John Bunyan
In this see thou thy beauty, hast thou any,
Or thy defects, should they be few or many.
Thou may'st, too, here thy spots and freckles see,
Hast thou but eyes, and what their numbers be.
But art thou blind? There is no looking-glass
Can show thee thy defects, thy spots, or face.
Beauty Sat Bathing by a Spring
© Anthony Munday
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.
73. SongFarewell to Ballochmyle
© Robert Burns
THE CATRINE woods were yellow seen,
The flowers decayd on Catrine lee,
Nae lavrock sang on hillock green,
But nature sickend on the ee.
237. SongIt is na, Jean, thy Bonie Face
© Robert Burns
IT is na, Jean, thy bonie face,
Nor shape that I admire;
Altho thy beauty and thy grace
Might weel awauk desire.
The Monks Of Basle
© John Hay
I tore this weed from the rank, dark soil
Where it grew in the monkish time,
I trimmed it close and set it again
In a border of modern rhyme.
12. SongThe Lass of Cessnock Banks
© Robert Burns
ON Cessnock banks a lassie dwells;
Could I describe her shape and mein;
Our lasses a she far excels,
An she has twa sparkling roguish een.
