Beauty poems
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Health
© Edward Thomas
Four miles at a leap, over the dark hollow land,
To the frosted steep of the down and its junipers black,
Travels my eye with equal ease and delight:
And scarce could my body leap four yards.
Enemy of Death
© Salvatore Quasimodo
(For Rossana Sironi) You should not have
ripped out your image
taken from us, from the world,
a portion of beauty.
Third Sunday In Lent
© John Keble
See Lucifer like lightning fall,
Dashed from his throne of pride;
While, answering Thy victorious call,
The Saints his spoils divide;
This world of Thine, by him usurped too long,
Now opening all her stores to heal Thy servants' wrong.
When I Roved A Young Highlander
© George Gordon Byron
When I roved a young Highlander o'er the dark heath,
And climb'd thy steep sumrnit, oh Morven of snow!
In A Motel Parking Lot, Thinking Of Dr. Williams
© Wendell Berry
The poem is important, but
not more than the people
whose survival it serves,
Sabbaths 2001
© Wendell Berry
IV
Ask the world to reveal its quietude
not the silence of machines when they are still,
but the true quiet by which birdsongs,
trees, bellows, snails, clouds, storms
become what they are, and are nothing else.
The peace of wild things
© Wendell Berry
When despair grows in me
and I wake in the middle of the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
The Folly Of Being Comforted
© William Butler Yeats
ONE that is ever kind said yesterday:
"Your well-beloved's hair has threads of grey,
The Wide Outdoors
© Edgar Albert Guest
The rich may pay for orchids rare, but, Oh the apple tree
Flings out its blossoms to the world for every eye to see,
And all who sigh for loveliness may walk beneath the sky
And claim a richer beauty than man's gold can ever buy.
The Parish Register - Part II: Marriages
© George Crabbe
made.
Yet now, would Phoebe her consent afford,
Her slave alone, again he'd mount the board;
With her should years of growing love be spent,
And growing wealth;--she sigh'd and look'd consent.
Now, through the lane, up hill, and 'cross the
For a Picture of the Last Judgement
© William Blake
The Caverns of the Grave I've seen,
And these I show'd to England's Queen.
Prometheus Unbound
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
First Voice.
But never bowed our snowy crest
As at the voice of thine unrest.
The Working Monarch
© William Schwenck Gilbert
Rising early in the morning,
We proceed to light the fire,
Then our Majesty adorning
In its work-a-day attire,
We embark without delay
On the duties of the day.
Huddersfield - The Second Poetry Capital Of England
© Barry Tebb
It brings to mind Swift leaving a fortune to Dublin
