Beauty poems

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That hides all fair things lost, and things unborn,
Where one has fled from me, that wore thy grace,
And that grave tenderness of thine awhile;
Nay, still in dreams I see her, but her face
Is pale, is wasted with a touch of scorn,
And only on thy lips I find her smile.

Clouds

© Charles Heavysege

Hushed in a calm beyond mine utterance,

See in the western sky the evening spread;

By the Statue of King Charles at Charing Cross

© Lionel Pigot Johnson

Sombre and rich, the skies;
Great glooms, and starry plains.
Gently the night wind sighs;
Else a vast silence reigns.

The Two desires

© Robert Laurence Binyon

What is the spirit's desire,
Sprung, springing, singing,
Fountain--fresh, rainbowed over with lights that awaken
The inner dishevelled crystal, starrily shaken

Tale XXI

© George Crabbe

rise;
Not there the wise alone their entrance find,
Imparting useful light to mortals blind;
But, blind themselves, these erring guides hold out
Alluring lights to lead us far about;
Screen'd by such means, here Scandal whets her

The Bride

© Edgar Albert Guest

Little lady at the altar,

Vowing by God's book and psalter

The Zucca

© Percy Bysshe Shelley

VII.
The Heavens had wept upon it, but the Earth
Had crushed it on her maternal breast

Lohengrin: Proem

© Emma Lazarus

THE alert and valiant faith that could respond,
Upon life's threshold, to the highest call,
Unquestioning of what might lie beyond,
Courage afield and courtesy in hall,

Before Death (Mrityu-r Agey)

© Jibanananda Das

We who have walked deserted stubble fields on a December evening,
Who have seen over the field's edge a soft river woman scattering
Her fog flowers-they all are like some village girls of old-
We who have seen in darkness the akanda tree, the dhundul plant
Filled with fireflies, the moon standing quietly at the head of
An already harvested field-she has no yearning for that harvest;

Bel m'es can eu vei la brolha

© Bernard de Ventadorn

Ma mort remir, que jauzir
no.n posc ni no.n sui jauzire;
mas eu sui tan bos sofrire
c'atendre cuit per sofrir.

Ode to Ethiopia

© Paul Laurence Dunbar

O Mother Race! to thee I bring
This pledge of faith unwavering,
This tribute to thy glory.
I know the pangs which thou didst feel,
When Slavery crushed thee with its heel,
With thy dear blood all gory.