Beauty poems
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At Last
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
Down, down like a pale leaf dropping
Under an autumn sky,
My love dropped into my bosom
Quietly, quietly.
The Aquittal Of Phryne
© Alfred Austin
When Athens challenged Phryne to confess
Eleusis' self sufficed not to appal
Helen Of Troy
© Sara Teasdale
Wild flight on flight against the fading dawn
The flames' red wings soar upward duskily.
This is the funeral pyre and Troy is dead
That sparkled so the day I saw it first,
How?
© Franklin Pierce Adams
How can I work when you play the piano,
Feminine person above?
How can I think, with your ceaseless soprano
Singing: "Ah, Love--"?
Lesbia's Daughter
© Kenneth Slessor
LESBIA'S daughter, I shall tell no lie,
Here's no fit amber for such a dainty fly.
Let them embalm your beauty whoso can
In boastful odes, I'm a more honest man.
The Fair Youth Sonnets (18 - 77, 87 - 126)
© William Shakespeare
Comprising the largest grouping of poems, the Fair Youth sonnets are addressed to the same young man in the Procreation Sonnets. But their themes and subjects are more drastically varied.
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The French Revolution as It Appeared to Enthusiasts at Its Commencement
© André Breton
Oh! pleasant exercise of hope and joy!
For mighty were the auxiliars which then stood
The Closed Door
© Madison Julius Cawein
SHUT it out of the heart this grief,
O Love, with the years grown old and hoary!
And let in joy that life is brief,
And give God thanks for the end of the story.
The Cane-Bottom’d Chair
© William Makepeace Thackeray
In tattered old slippers that toast at the bars,
And a ragged old jacket perfumed with cigars,
Away from the world and its toils and its cares,
I’ve a snug little kingdom up four pair of stairs.
Walking Parker Home
© Bob Kaufman
Sweet beats of jazz impaled on slivers of wind
Kansas Black Morning/ First Horn Eyes/
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part III: Gods And False Gods: LXVII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
THE SAME CONTINUED
Your youth flowed on, a river chaste and fair,
Till thirty years were written to your name.
A wife, a mother, these the titles were
The House Of Dust: Part 02: 07:
© Conrad Aiken
'One white rose . . . or is it pink, to-day?'
They pause and smile, not caring what they say,
If only they may talk.
The crowd flows past them like dividing waters.
Dreaming they stand, dreaming they walk.
H. S. Mauberley (Life and Contacts) [Part I]
© Ezra Pound
E. P. Ode pour l'élection de son sépulchre
For three years, out of key with his time,
He strove to resuscitate the dead art
Of poetry; to maintain "the sublime"
In the old sense. Wrong from the start i
At Cross Purposes
© Samuel Menashe
1
Is this writing mine
Whose name is this
Did I underline
What I was to miss?
America Politica Historia, in Spontaneity
© Gregory Corso
O this political air so heavy with the bells
and motors of a slow night, and no place to rest
Paradise Lost: Book IV
© Patrick Kavanagh
"Which of those rebel Spirits adjudg'd to Hell
Com'st thou, escap'd thy prison? and, transform'd,
Why satt'st thou like an enemy in wait,
Here watching at the head of these that sleep?"
And Ut Pictura Poesis Is Her Name
© John Ashbery
You can’t say it that way any more.
Bothered about beauty you have to
