Beauty poems
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Leave Me, My Blamer XIII
© Khalil Gibran
Advise me not, my blamer, for
Calamities have opened my heart and
Tears have cleanses my eyes, and
Errors have taught me the language
Of the hearts.
To My Class: On Certain Fruits And Flowers Sent Me In Sickness
© Sidney Lanier
If spicy-fringed pinks that blush and pale
With passions of perfume, - if violets blue
Before the Throne of Beauty XXVI
© Khalil Gibran
One heavy day I ran away from the grim face of society and the dizzying clamor of the city and directed my weary step to the spacious alley
A Poet's Death is His Life IV
© Khalil Gibran
The dark wings of night enfolded the city upon which Nature had spread a pure white garment of snow; and men deserted the streets for their houses in search of warmth, while the north wind probed in contemplation of laying waste the gardens
A Lover's Call XXVII
© Khalil Gibran
Where are you, my beloved? Are you in that little
Paradise, watering the flowers who look upon you
As infants look upon the breast of their mothers?
Sonnet 5: It Is Most True
© Sir Philip Sidney
It is most true, that eyes are form'd to serve
The inward light; and that the heavenly part
Ought to be king, from whose rules who do swerve,
Rebles to Nature, strive for their own smart.
The Masque Of Pandora
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
THE VOICE.
Not finished till I breathe the breath of life
Into her nostrils, and she moves and speaks.
Grey
© Archibald Thomas Strong
Lady of Sorrow! What though laughing blue,
Thy sister, mock mens anguish, and the sun
Self-Criticism In February
© Robinson Jeffers
The bay is not blue but sombre yellow
With wrack from the battered valley, it is speckled with violent
Betrothed
© Louise Bogan
You have put your two hands upon me, and your mouth,
You have said my name as a prayer.
Here where trees are planted by the water
I have watched your eyes, cleansed from regret,
And your lips, closed over all that love cannot say,
A Tale
© Louise Bogan
This youth too long has heard the break
Of waters in a land of change.
He goes to see what suns can make
From soil more indurate and strange.
Juan's Song
© Louise Bogan
When beauty breaks and falls asunder
I feel no grief for it, but wonder.
When love, like a frail shell, lies broken,
I keep no chip of it for token.
Grass
© Alice Guerin Crist
The world is all one smother of grass,
Waves of it rolling deep and green,
Little Oliver
© William Schwenck Gilbert
EARL JOYCE he was a kind old party
Whom nothing ever could put out,
Though eighty-two, he still was hearty,
Excepting as regarded gout.
The Falcon
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
Who would not be Sir Hubert, for his birth and bearing fine,
His rich sky-skirted woodlands, valleys flowing oil and wine;
An Ode To Mr. Howard
© Matthew Prior
Dear Howard, from the soft assaults of love
Poets and painters never are secure;
Can I untouch'd the fair one's passions move,
Or thou draw beauty, and not feel its power?
