Beauty poems
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A Poem Beginning with a Line by Pindar
© Robert Duncan
I
The light foot hears you and the brightness begins
god-step at the margins of thought,
quick adulterous tread at the heart.
Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard
© Thomas Gray
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea,
The plowman homeward plods his weary way,
And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
Poem to Some of My Recent Poems
© James Tate
My beloved little billiard balls,
my polite mongrels, edible patriotic plums,
Stanzas To the Memory Of George III
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
'Among many nations was there no King like him.' Nehemiah, xiii, 26.
'Know ye not that there is a prince and a great man fallen this day in Israel?' 2 Samuel, iii, 38.
L'Envoi
© James Russell Lowell
Whether my heart hath wiser grown or not,
In these three years, since I to thee inscribed,
Balade
© Sir Henry Newbolt
Nay--for Narcissus, in the forest pond
Seeing his image, made entreaty fond,
"Beloved, comfort on my longing pour":
So for a while he soothed his passion sore;
So cannot I, for all too far is she---
The lady who is queen and love to me.
Address For The Opening Of The Fifth Avenue Theatre
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
HANG out our banners on the stately tower
It dawns at last--the long-expected hour!
The steep is climbed, the star-lit summit won,
The builder's task, the artist's labor done;
Before the finished work the herald stands,
And asks the verdict of your lips and hands!
Three Years She Grew
© André Breton
Three years she grew in sun and shower,
Then Nature said, "A lovelier flower
On earth was never sown;
This Child I to myself will take;
She shall be mine, and I will make
A Lady of my own.
Christmas Eve: My Mother Dressing
© Toi Derricotte
My mother was not impressed with her beauty;
once a year she put it on like a costume,
The New Year
© Emma Lazarus
Look where the mother of the months uplifts
In the green clearness of the unsunned West,
Her ivory horn of plenty, dropping gifts,
Cool, harvest-feeding dews, fine-winnowed light;
Tired labor with fruition, joy and rest
Profusely to requite.
Epilogue to Schiller's Song of the Bell
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Mingled the crowds from ev'ry region brought,
And on the stage, in festal pomp array'd
The HOMAGE OF THE ARTS we saw displayed.
Scallop Song
© Anne Waldman
I wore a garland of the briar that put me now in awe
I wore a garland of the brain that was whole
The Hunting of the Snark
© Lewis Carroll
"Just the place for a Snark!" the Bellman cried,
As he landed his crew with care;
Supporting each man on the top of the tide
By a finger entwined in his hair.
A Prelude At Evening
© Robert Laurence Binyon
My spirit was like the lonely air
Before night,
Like hovering cloud that's melted there
In the late light,
Naucratia; Or Naval Dominion. Part III.
© Henry James Pye
Arm'd in her cause, on Chalgrave's fatal plain,
Where sorrowing Freedom mourns her Hambden slain,
Say, shall the moralizing bard presume
From his proud hearse to tear one warlike plume,
Because a Cæsar or a Cromwell wore
An impious wreath, wet with their country's gore?
Tithonus
© Alfred Tennyson
Lo! ever thus thou growest beautiful
In silence, then before thine answer given
Departest, and thy tears are on my cheek.
