Beauty poems
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Hero And Leander: The First Sestiad
© Christopher Marlowe
On Hellespont, guilty of true-love's blood,
In view and opposite two cities stood,
Derne
© John Greenleaf Whittier
NIGHT on the city of the Moor!
On mosque and tomb, and white-walled shore,
On sea-waves, to whose ceaseless knock
The narrow harbor gates unlock,
The Silver Locks
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Tho' youth may boast the curls that flow,
In sunny waves of auburn glow;
As graceful on thy hoary head,
Has time the robe of honor spread,
And there, oh ! softly, softly shed,
His wreath of snow!
Ship's Glamour
© Harry Kemp
When there wakes any wind to shake this place,
This wave-hemmed atom of land on which I dwell,
My fancy conquers time, condition, space, -
A trivial sound begets a miracle!
On A Portrait Of Wordsworth By B. R. Haydon
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
To the higher Heavens. A noble vision free
Our Haydon's hand has flung out from the mist:
No portrait this, with Academic air !
This is the poet and his poetry.
To Saxham
© Thomas Carew
Though frost and snow lock'd from mine eyes
That beauty which without door lies,
Why Should I Pine?
© Madison Julius Cawein
Why should I pine? when there in Spain
Are eyes to woo, and not in vain;
Dark eyes, and dreamily divine:
And lips, as red as sunlit wine;
My Native Land!
© Caroline Norton
WHERE is the minstrel's native land?
Where the flames of light and feeling glow;
Where the flowers are wreathed for beauty's brow;
Where the bounding heart swells strong and high,
With holy hopes which may not die--
There is my native land!
Not Marble Nor The Gilded Monuments
© Archibald MacLeish
THE praisers of women in their proud and beautiful poems
Naming the grave mouth and the hair and the eyes
Fifteen by Leslie Monsour: American Life in Poetry #38 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
I'd guess that many women remember the risks and thrills of their first romantic encounters in much the same way California poet Leslie Monsour does in this poem.
Sir Eldred Of The Bower : A Legendary Tale: In Two Parts
© Hannah More
There was a young and valiant Knight,
Sir Eldred was his name;
And never did a worthier wight
The rank of knighthood claim.
Lamia. Part I
© John Keats
Upon a time, before the faery broods
Drove Nymph and Satyr from the prosperous woods,
A Christmas Eve Choral
© Bliss William Carman
Halleluja!
What sound is this across the dark
While all the earth is sleeping? Hark!
Halleluja! Halleluja! Halleluja!
The Little Home
© Edgar Albert Guest
The little house is not too small
To shelter friends who come to call.
Though low the roof and small its space
It holds the Lord's abounding grace,
And every simple room may be
Endowed with happy memory.
A Triptych
© Arthur Symons
II. ISOTTA TO THE ROSE: RIMINI
The little country girl who plucks a rose
Goes barefoot through the sunlight to the sea,
And singing of Isotta as she goes.
