Beauty poems
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Inside My Head
© Robert Creeley
Inside my head a common room,
a common place, a common tune,
a common wealth, a common doom
Galatea
© Henry Kendall
A SILVER slope, a fall of firs, a league of gleaming grasses,
And fiery cones, and sultry spurs, and swarthy pits and passes!
Nabokov’s Blues
© William Matthews
The wallful of quoted passages from his work,
with the requisite specimens pinned next
to their literary cameo appearances, was too good
Sonnet L: Beauty, Sweet Love
© Samuel Daniel
Beauty, sweet love, is like the morning dew
Whose short refresh upon the tender green
1979
© Roddy Lumsden
They arrived at the desk of the Hotel Duncan
and Smithed in, twitchy as flea-drummed squirrels.
Do Not!
© Stevie Smith
Do not despair of man, and do not scold him,
Who are you that you should so lightly hold him?
The Frogs
© Archibald Lampman
Often to me who heard you in your day,
With close wrapt ears, it could not choose but seem
That earth, our mother, searching in that way,
Men's hearts might know her spirit's inmost dream,
Ever at rest beneath life's change and stir,
Made you her soul, and bade you pipe for her.
In Memory of Bryan Lathrop
© Edgar Lee Masters
Who bequeathed to Chicago a School of Music.
So in Pieria, from the wedded bliss
To Eleonora Duse II
© Sara Teasdale
Your beauty lives in mystic melodies,
And all the light about you breathes a song.
Your voice awakes the dreaming airs that throng
Within our music-haunted memories.
Astrophel And Stella-Eighth Song
© Sir Philip Sidney
In a grove most rich of shade,
Where birds wanton music made,
May, then young, his pied weeds showing,
New perfum'd with flowers growing,
My Country
© James Montgomery
Man, through all ages of revolving time,
Unchanging man, in every varying clime,
Deems his own land of every land the pride,
Beloved by Heaven o'er the world beside;
His home the spot of earth supremely blest,
A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest.
The Whole Mess ... Almost
© Gregory Corso
I ran up six flights of stairs
to my small furnished room
opened the window
and began throwing out
those things most important in life
The Child Of The Islands - Summer
© Caroline Norton
I.
FOR Summer followeth with its store of joy;
That, too, can bring thee only new delight;
Its sultry hours can work thee no annoy,
