Beauty poems
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Women And Roses
© Robert Browning
I dream of a red-rose tree.
And which of its roses three
Is the dearest rose to me?
The Englishman In Italy
© Robert Browning
(PIANO DI SORRENTO.)Fortu, Frotu, my beloved one,
Sit here by my side,
On my knees put up both little feet!
I was sure, if I tried,
A Pretty Woman
© Robert Browning
That fawn-skin-dappled hair of hers,
And the blue eye
Dear and dewy,
And that infantine fresh air of hers!
Any Wife To Any Husband
© Robert Browning
My love, this is the bitterest, that thou
Who art all truth and who dost love me now
As thine eyes say, as thy voice breaks to say
Shouldst love so truly and couldst love me still
A whole long life through, had but love its will,
Would death that leads me from thee brook delay!
Daisy
© Francis Thompson
Where the thistle lifts a purple crown
Six foot out of the turf,
And the harebell shakes on the windy hill--
O breath of the distant surf!--
Dream Barker
© Jean Valentine
We met for supper in your flat-bottomed boat.
I got there first: in a white dress: I remember
Wondering if you'd come. Then you shot over the bank,
A Virgilian Nigger Jim, and poled us off
To a little sea-food barker's cave you knew.
The Swan At Edgewater Park
© Ruth L. Schwartz
Isn't one of your prissy richpeoples' swans
Wouldn't be at home on some pristine pond
Chooses the whole stinking shoreline, candy wrappers, condoms
in its tidal fringe
Two Poems from the War
© Archibald MacLeish
Not these, nor all we've been, nor all we've loved,
The pitiful familiar names, had moved
Our hearts to weep for them; but oh, the star
The future is! Eternity's too wan
To give again that undefeated, far,
All-possible irradiance of dawn.
Bad Day At The Beauty Salon
© Maggie Estep
I was a 20 year old unemployed receptionist with
dyed orange dreadlocks sprouting out of my skull. I needed a job, but first,
I needed a haircut.
Death in the Family
© Julie Hill Alger
They call it stroke.
Two we loved were stunned
by that same blow of cudgel
or axe to the brow.
True Love
© Robert Penn Warren
In silence the heart raves.It utters words
Meaningless, that never had
A meaning.I was ten, skinny, red-headed,
Sonnets 08: And You As Well Must Die, Beloved Du
© Edna St. Vincent Millay
And you as well must die, beloved dust,
And all your beauty stand you in no stead;
This flawless, vital hand, this perfect head,
This body of flame and steel, before the gust
Invocation To The Muses
© Edna St. Vincent Millay
Archaic, or obsolescent at the least,
Be thy grave speaking and the careful words of thy clear song,
For the time wrongs us, and the words most common to our speech today
Salute and welcome to the feast
Conspicuous Evil or against him all day long
Cry out, telling of ugly deeds and most uncommon wrong.
Oh, Think Not I Am Faithful
© Edna St. Vincent Millay
IIIOH, THINK not I am faithful to a vow!
Faithless am I save to love's self alone.
Were you not lovely I would leave you now:
After the feet of beauty fly my own.
To Kathleen
© Edna St. Vincent Millay
STILL must the poet as of old,
In barren attic bleak and cold,
Starve, freeze, and fashion verses to
Such things as flowers and song and you;
Think Not, Not For A Moment Let Your Mind
© Edna St. Vincent Millay
Think not, not for a moment let your mind,
Wearied with thinking, doze upon the thought
That the work's done and the long day behind,
And beauty, since 'tis paid for, can be bought.
To A Poet That Died Young
© Edna St. Vincent Millay
Still, though none should hark again,
Drones the blue-fly in the pane,
Thickly crusts the blackest moss,
Blows the rose its musk across,
Floats the boat that is forgot
None the less to Camelot.
Sonnets 07: When I Too Long Have Looked Upon Your Face
© Edna St. Vincent Millay
When I too long have looked upon your face,
Wherein for me a brightness unobscured
Save by the mists of brightness has its place,
And terrible beauty not to be endured,
Two Sonnets In Memory
© Edna St. Vincent Millay
(Nicola Sacco -- Bartolomeo Vanzetti)
Executed August 23, 1927
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