Beauty poems
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Jacob Goodpasture
© Edgar Lee Masters
When Fort Sumter fell and the war came
I cried out in bitterness of soul:
"O glorious republic now no more!"
When they buried my soldier son
If One Might Live
© Ethelwyn Wetherald
If one might live ten years among the leaves,
Tenonly tenof all a life's long day,
Elegy XX. He Compares His Humble Fortune With the Distress of Others
© William Shenstone
Why droops this heart with fancied woes forlorn?
Why sinks my soul beneath this wintry sky?
What pensive crowds, by ceaseless labours worn,
What myriads, wish to be as blessed as I!
The Lovers Colloquy
© Victor Marie Hugo
DONNA SOL. Night is too silent, darkness too profound
Oh, for a star to shine, a voice to sound--
To raise some sudden note of music now
Suited to night.
Widow McFarlane
© Edgar Lee Masters
I was the Widow McFarlane,
Weaver of carpets for all the village.
And I pity you still at the loom of life,
You who are singing to the shuttle
Elegy XIII: His Parting From Her
© John Donne
SINCE she must go, and I must mourn, come night,
Environ me with darkness, whilst I write ;
They Did Not See Thy Face
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Some on the pleasant hillside have thought they saw thee pass,
As flings a cloud before the sun a shadow on the grass.
The Seedling
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
AS a quiet little seedling
Lay within its darksome bed,
To itself it fell a-talking,
And this is what it said:
A Song of the Palace.
© Bai Juyi
Her tears are spent, but no dreams come.
She can hear the others singing through the night.
She has lost his love. Alone with her beauty,
She leans till dawn on her incense-pillow.
Beauty that Is Never Old
© James Weldon Johnson
When buffeted and beaten by life's storms,
When by the bitter cares of life oppressed,
I want no surer haven than your arms,
I want no sweeter heaven than your breast.
Mrs. Williams
© Edgar Lee Masters
I was the milliner
Talked about, lied about,
Mother of Dora,
Whose strange disappearance
The Patient Countess. - extracted from Albion's England
© William Warner
Impatience chaungeth smoke to flame, but jealousie is hell;
Some wives by patience have reduc'd ill husbands to live well:
The Sermon of the Birds
© Roland Robinson
I was clearing thirty or forty acres once
Out in the western range near Nightcap Mountain.
Ollie McGee
© Edgar Lee Masters
Have you seen walking through the village
A man with downcast eyes and haggard face?
That is my husband who, by secret cruelty
never to be told, robbed me of my youth and my beauty;
Polyphemus
© Alfred Austin
ACIS ``You are brighter than either. I cannot descry you
From radiant ripple until I come nigh you.
I lose you, I find you, again you grow dimmer,
Till round me seems nothing but shadow and shimmer.
'Tis your golden-rayed ringlets that baffle and blind me.''
Thursos Landing
© Robinson Jeffers
In the night Reave dreamed that Helen
Lay with him in the deep grave, he awoke loathing her,
But when the weak moment between sleep and waking
Was past, his need of her and his judgment of her
Knew their suspended duel; and he heard her breathing,
Irregularly, gently in the dark.
Mrs. George Reece
© Edgar Lee Masters
To this generation I would say:
Memorize some bit of verse of truth or beauty.
It may serve a turn in your life.
My husband had nothing to do
Chords
© Madison Julius Cawein
When love delays, when love delays and Joy
Steals a strange shadow o'er the happy hills,
And Hope smiles from To-morrow, nor fulfills
One promise of To-day, thy sight would cloy
This soul with loved despair
By seeing thee so fair.
Sonnet 102: Wher Be Those Roses Gone
© Sir Philip Sidney
Where be those roses gone, which sweeten'd so our eyes?
Where those red cheeks, which oft with fair increase did frame
The height of honor in the kindly badge of shame?
Who hath the crimson weeds stol'n from my morning skies?
