Beauty poems
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To Florence
© George Gordon Byron
Oh Lady! when I left the shore,
The distant shore which gave me birth,
I hardly thought to grieve once more
To quit another spot on earth:
Olympus
© Richard Monckton Milnes
With no sharp--sided peak or sudden cone,
Thou risest o'er the blank Thessalian plain,
But in the semblance of a rounded throne,
Meet for a monarch and his noble train
To A Picture Of Eleonora Duse In "The Dead City" II
© Sara Teasdale
Carved in the silence by the hand of Pain,
And made more perfect by the gift of Peace,
Than if Delight had bid your sorrow cease,
And brought the dawn to where the dark has lain,
Si Descendero In Infernum, Ades
© James Russell Lowell
O wandering dim on the extremest edge
Of God's bright providence, whose spirits sigh
Sonnet I: Unto the Boundless Ocean
© Samuel Daniel
Unto the boundless Ocean of thy beauty
Runs this poor river, charg'd with streams of zeal:
To Tan-Ch'iu
© Li Po
My friend is lodging high in the Eastern Range,
Dearly loving the beauty of valleys and hills.
At green Spring he lies in the empty woods,
And is still asleep when the sun shines on igh.
Cagnes
© Mathilde Blind
You may perchance, I never shall forget
When, between twofold glory of land and sea,
We leant together o'er the old parapet,
And saw the sun go down. For, oh, to me,
The beauty of that beautiful strange place
Was its reflection beaming from your face.
Looking For A Monk And Not Finding Him
© Li Po
I took a small path leading
up a hill valley, finding there
a temple, its gate covered
with moss, and in front of
Rose
© Thomas Dekker
Here sit thou down upon this flowry bank,
And make a garland for thy Lacys head.
The Harp Of Hoel
© William Lisle Bowles
It was a high and holy sight,
When Baldwin and his train,
With cross and crosier gleaming bright,
Came chanting slow the solemn rite,
To Gwentland's pleasant plain.
Sunday Chimes in the City
© Louise Imogen Guiney
Forbid not these! Tho' no man heed, they shower
A subtle beauty on the empty hour,
>From all their dark throats aching and outblown;
Aye in the prayerless places welcome most,
Like the last gull that up a naked coast
Deploys her white and steady wing, alone.
Upon The Blush Of A Faire Ladie
© William Strode
Stay lusty blood! where canst thou seeke
So blest a seat as in her cheeke?
How dar'st thou from her face retire
Whose beauty doth command desire?
To His Mistresse
© William Strode
In your sterne beauty I can see
Whatere in Aetna wonders bee;
If coales out of the topp doe flye
Hott flames doe gush out of your eye;
To A Valentine
© William Strode
Faire Valentine, since once your welcome hand
Did cull mee out wrapt in a paper band,
Vouchsafe the same hand still, to shew thereby
That Fortune did your will no injury:
The Fan : A Poem. Book I.
© John Gay
The goddess pleas'd, the curious work receive,
Remounts her chariot, and the grotto leaves;
With the light fan she moves the yielding air,
And gales, till then unknown, play round the fair.
To A Gentlewoman For A Friend
© William Strode
No marvell if the Sunne's bright eye
Shower downe hott flames; that qualitie
Still waytes on light; but when wee see
Those sparkling balles of ebony
The Things You Can't Forget
© Edgar Albert Guest
They ain't much, seen from day to day--
The big elm tree across the way,
