Beauty poems
/ page 30 of 313 /
Lilac And Gold And Green
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Lilac and gold and green!
Those are the colours I love the best,
Spring's own raiment untouched and clean,
When the world is awake and yet hardly dressed,
The Birth Of Flattery
© George Crabbe
Muse of my Spenser, who so well could sing
The passions all, their bearings and their ties;
The Siege Of Corinth
© George Gordon Byron
XXVII.
Still the old man stood erect,
And Alp's career a moment check'd.
"Yield thee, Minotti; quarter take,
For thine own, thy daughter's sake."
Revisited
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The roll of drums and the bugle's wailing
Vex the air of our vales-no more;
The spear is beaten to hooks of pruning,
The share is the sword the soldier wore!
Rubaiyat 26
© Shams al-Din Hafiz
One with such beauty none will make.
When her garments off we take
You can see her heart in her fragile breast,
Like a hard rock in a clear lake.
Alice And Una. A Tale Of Ceim-An-Eich
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
With a sigh for what is fading, but, O Earth! with no upbraiding,
For we feel that time is braiding newer, fresher flowers for thee,
We will speak, despite our grieving, words of loving and believing,
Tales we vowed when we were leaving awful Ceim-an-eich,
Where the sever'd rocks resemble fragments of a frozen sea,
And the wild deer flee!
The Faun
© Madison Julius Cawein
The joys that touched thee once, be mine!
The sympathies of sky and sea,
The friendships of each rock and pine,
That made thy lonely life, ah me!
In Tempe or in Gargaphie.
The Rose
© Jones Very
The rose thou show'st me has lost all its hue,
For thou dost seem to me than it less fair;
Euthanasia
© George Gordon Byron
When Time, or soon or late, shall bring
The dreamless sleep that lulls the dead,
Oblivion! may thy languid wing
Wave gently o'er my dying bed!
The Lotus-Flower
© Roderic Quinn
All the heights of the high shores gleam
Red and gold at the sunset hour:
There comes the spell of a magic dream,
And the Harbour seems a lotus-flower;
Biography
© John Masefield
Yet when I am dust my penman may not know
Those water-trampling ships which made me glow,
But think my wonder mad and fail to find,
Their glory, even dimly, from my mind,
And yet they made me:
Out Of Pompeii
© William Wilfred Campbell
She lay, face downward, on her beaded arm,
In this her new, sweet dream of human bliss,
Her heart within her fearful, fluttering, warm,
Her lips yet pained with love's first timorous kiss.
To The Lady In The Electric
© Edgar Albert Guest
Lady in the show case carriage,
Do not think that I'm a bear;
The Glory Of The Heavens
© Emile Verhaeren
Shining in dim transparence, the whole of infinity lies
Behind the veil that the finger of radiant winter weaves
And down on us falls the foliage of stars in glittering sheaves;
From out the depths of the forest, the forest obscure of the skies,
The Angel In The House. Book I. Canto III.
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
IV The Attainment
You love? That's high as you shall go;
For 'tis as true as Gospel text,
Not noble then is never so,
Either in this world or the next.
The Shepherd, Looking Eastward, Softly Said
© William Wordsworth
The Shepherd, looking eastward, softly said
"Bright is thy veil, O Moon, as thou art bright!"
The Eagle of the Blue
© Herman Melville
ALOFT he guards the starry folds
Who is the brother of the star;
The bird whose joy is in the wind
Exulteth in the war.
Paradise Lost : Book IX.
© John Milton
No more of talk where God or Angel guest
With Man, as with his friend, familiar us'd,
Within and Without: Part II: A Dramatic Poem
© George MacDonald
Julian.
Hm! ah! I see.
What kind of man is this Nembroni, nurse?
