Beauty poems
/ page 206 of 313 /
The Chant Of The Vultures
© Edwin Markham
We are circling, glad of the battle: we
joy in the smell of the smoke.
The Restoration Of The Works Of Art In Italy
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Vain dream! degraded Rome! thy noon is o'er,
Once lost, thy spirit shall revive no more.
It sleeps with those, the sons of other days,
Who fix'd on thee the world's adoring gaze;
Those, blest to live, while yet thy star was high,
More blest, ere darkness quench'd its beam, to die!
The North Sea -- First Cycle
© Heinrich Heine
Once through heaven went shining,
Wedded and one,
Luna the Goddess, and Sol the God,
And the stars in multitudes thronged around them,
Their little, innocent children.
Sir Thomas Lawrence
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
DIVINEST art, the stars above
Were fated on thy birth to shine;
Oh, born of beauty and of love,
What early poetry was thine!
The Leper
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
NOTHING is better, I well think,
Than love; the hidden well-water
Is not so delicate to drink:
This was well seen of me and her.
Wasted Beauty
© Arthur Symons
This beauty is vain, this, born to be wasted,
Poured on the ground like water, spilled, and by no man tasted;
What is Divinity
© Wallace Stevens
What is divinity if it can come
Only in silent shadows and in dreams?
Shall she not find in comforts of the sun,
In pungent fruit and bright, green wings, or else
To a Cabbage Rose
© Henry Lea Twisleton
Thy clustering leaves are steeped in splendour;
No evening red, no morning dun,
Can show a hue as rich and tender
As thine - bright lover of the sun!
Human Applause
© Friedrich Hölderlin
Isn't my heart holy, more full of life's beauty,
since I fell in love? Why did you like me more
when I was prouder and wilder, more full
of words, yet emptier?
Tale VII
© George Crabbe
view,
A useful lass,--you may have more to do."
Dreadful were these commands; but worse than
A Song Of Harvest
© John Greenleaf Whittier
This day, two hundred years ago,
The wild grape by the river's side,
And tasteless groundnut trailing low,
The table of the woods supplied.
A Love Song From The North
© Sarojini Naidu
Tell me no more of thy love, papeeha,
Wouldst thou recall to my heart, papeeha,
Dreams of delight that are gone,
When swift to my side came the feet of my lover
The Unreturning Spring
© Robert Laurence Binyon
A leaf on the gray sand--path
Fallen, and fair with rime!
A yellow leaf, a scarlet leaf,
And a green leaf ere its time.
Wind At Midnight
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Naked night; black elms, pallid and streaming sky!
Alone with the passion of the Wind,
In a hollow of stormy sound lost and alone am I,
On beaten earth a lost, unmated mind,
Translation From Alfred De Mussets Ode To Malibran
© Frances Anne Kemble
O Maria Felicia! the Painter and Bard,
Behind them in dying leave undying heirs,
To The Reverend Mr. Mabell, Of Cambridge
© Mary Barber
From Noise, and Nonsense, and vain Laughte free,
I steal a thoughtful Hour, and give to thee;
To thee, Conductor of my heedless Youth,
Who taught me first to rev'rence Sense, and Truth;
Virtue to praise; and boldly Vice deride,
With all the Pomp of Fashion on her Side.
