Beauty poems
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The Evening Of The Year
© Mathilde Blind
The grief of many partings near
Wails like an echo in the wind:
The days of love lie far behind,
The days of loss lie shuddering near.
Life's morning-glory who shall bind?
It is the evening of the year.
Medea in Athens
© Augusta Davies Webster
Dimly I recall
some prophecy a god breathed by my mouth.
It could not err. What was it? For I think;-
it told his death¹.
A Sonnet, To His Mother As A New Year's Gift From Cambridge
© George Herbert
My God, where is that ancient heat towards thee,
Wherewith whole shoals of martyrs once did burn,
Trilogy Of Passion 03 Atonement
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Eternal beauty has its fruit to bear;
The eye grows moist, in yearnings blest reveres
The godlike worth of music as of tears.
Vobiscum Est Iope
© Thomas Campion
When thou must home to shades of underground,
And there arrived, a new admirèd guest,
The beauteous spirits do engirt thee round,
White Iope, blithe Helen, and the rest,
To hear the stories of thy finished love
From that smooth tongue whose music hell can move;
Intimations Of The Beautiful
© Madison Julius Cawein
The hills are full of prophecies
And ancient voices of the dead;
Of hidden shapes that no man sees,
Pale, visionary presences,
That speak the things no tongue hath said,
No mind hath thought, no eye hath read.
A Man Young And Old: VI. His Memories
© William Butler Yeats
We should be hidden from their eyes,
Being but holy shows
And bodies broken like a thorn
Whereon the bleak north blows,
To think of buried Hector
And that none living knows.
Rondeau Redoublé (and Scarcely Worth the Trouble, at That)
© Dorothy Parker
The same to me are sombre days and gay.
Though joyous dawns the rosy morn, and bright,
Because my dearest love is gone away
Within my heart is melancholy night.
Christmas Day, 1850
© George MacDonald
Beautiful stories wed with lovely days
Like words and music:-what shall be the tale
Of love and nobleness that might avail
To express in action what this sweetness says-
Exultation
© Emma Lazarus
BEHOLD, I walked abroad at early morning,
The fields of June were bathed in dew and lustre,
The hills were clad with light as with a garment.
from [Eve Describes Her Creation] from Paradise Lost, Book 4
© Patrick Kavanagh
That day I oft remember, when from sleep
I first awak’d and found myself repos’d,
Mozart's Requiem
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Not so, it is not so!
The warning voice I know,
From other worlds a strange mysterious tone;
A solemn funeral air
It call'd me to prepare,
And my heart answer'd secretly my own!
Verses On Rome
© Frances Anne Kemble
O Rome, tremendous! who, beholding thee,
Shall not forget the bitterest private grief
Everyday Characters V - Portrait Of A Lady
© Winthrop Mackworth Praed
IN THE EXHIBITION OP THE ROYAL
ACADEMY
Pauline, A Fragment of a Question
© Robert Browning
And I can love nothing-and this dull truth
Has come the last: but sense supplies a love
Encircling me and mingling with my life.
Second Love
© Henry Timrod
Could I reveal the secret joy
Thy presence always with it brings,
The memories so strangely waked
Of long forgotten things,
To A Locomotive In Winter
© Walt Whitman
Fierce-throated beauty!
Roll through my chant, with all thy lawless music! thy swinging lamps
at night;
Thy piercing, madly-whistled laughter! thy echoes, rumbling like an
earthquake, rousing all!
Rule Britannia
© James Thomson
When Britain first, at heaven's command,
Arose from out the azure main,
This was the charter of the land,
And guardian angels sung this strain—
"Rule, Britannia, rule the waves;
Britons never will be slaves."
