Beauty poems
/ page 32 of 313 /
Home
© James Montgomery
There is a land, of every land the pride,
Beloved by heaven, o'er all the world beside;
Book Seventh [Residence in London]
© William Wordsworth
Returned from that excursion, soon I bade
Farewell for ever to the sheltered seats
Of gowned students, quitted hall and bower,
And every comfort of that privileged ground,
Well pleased to pitch a vagrant tent among
The unfenced regions of society.
A Street Of Ghosts
© Madison Julius Cawein
The drowsy day, with half-closed eyes,
Dreams in this quaint forgotten street,
That, like some old-world wreckage, lies,--
Left by the sea's receding beat,--
Far from the city's restless feet.
Metamorphoses: Book The Third
© Ovid
The End of the Third Book.
Translated into English verse under the direction of
Sir Samuel Garth by John Dryden, Alexander Pope, Joseph Addison,
William Congreve and other eminent hands
My Country Love
© Norman Rowland Gale
If you passed her in your city
You would call her badly dressed,
"This dainty instrument, this tabletoy"
© Richard Monckton Milnes
This dainty instrument, this table--toy,
Might seem best fitted for the use and joy
Of some high Ladie in old gallant times,
Or gay--learned weaver of Provencal rhymes:
Don Pedrillo
© Emma Lazarus
Not a lad in Saragossa
Nobler-featured, haughtier-tempered,
Than the Alcalde's youthful grandson,
Donna Clara's boy Pedrillo.
The White Witch
© James Weldon Johnson
O, brothers mine, take care! Take care!
The great white witch rides out to-night,
Trust not your prowess nor your strength;
Your only safety lies in flight;
For in her glance there is a snare,
And in her smile there is a blight.
The Enchanted Lake
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
I found a dark enchanted lake,
That lay within a lonely glade;
Miriam
© John Greenleaf Whittier
But over Akbar's brows the frown hung black,
And, turning to the eunuch at his back,
"Take them," he said, "and let the Jumna's waves
Hide both my shame and these accursed slaves!"
His loathly length the unsexed bondman bowed
"On my head be it!"
Maha-Bharata, The Epic Of Ancient India - Book XII - Aswa-Medha - (Sacrifice Of The Horse)
© Romesh Chunder Dutt
The real Epic ends with the war and the funerals of the deceased
warriors. Much of what follows in the original Sanscrit poem is
The Face Of Qana
© Nizar Qabbani
The face of Qana
Pale, like that of Jesus
and the sea breeze of April…
Rains of blood.. and tears..
2
Song of the Foot Track
© Elsie Cole
COME away, come away from the straightness of the road;
I will lead you into delicate recesses
Vashti
© James Weldon Johnson
Once when my eyes met yours it seemed that in
your cheek, despite your pride,
A flush arose and swiftly died; or was it something that I dreamed?
The Nevers of Poetry
© Charles Harpur
Never heed whether a line strictly goes
By learned rule, if, brook-like, it warble as it flows,
Or if, in concord with the thought, it fills
Fast forward, like a torrent fast flooding from the hills.
Trivia ; or, the Art of Walking the Streets of London : Book III
© John Gay
Of Walking the Streets by Night.
O Trivia, goddess, leave these low abodes,
A Prayer { For Those Who Shall Return}
© Katharine Tynan
LORD, when they come back again
From the dreadful battlefield
To the common ways of men,
Be Thy mercy, Lord, revealed!
Make them to forget the dread
Fields of dying and the dead!
The Crocus Bed
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
YELLOW as the noonday sun,
Purple as a day that's done,
White as mist that lingers pale
On the edge of morning's veil,
Delicate as love's first kiss--
Crocuses are just like this.
