Beauty poems
/ page 46 of 313 /Earth
© John Hall Wheelock
Yea, and this, my poem, too,
Is part of her as dust and dew,
Wherein herself she doth declare
Through my lips, and say her prayer.
The Story Of Glaucus The Thessalian
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
Up to the deep founts of the tenderest eyes
That e'er have shone, I think, since in some dell
Of Argos and enchanted Thessaly,
The poet, from whose heart-lit brain it came,
Murmured this record unto her he loved?
The Abencerrage : Canto I.
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Lonely and still are now thy marble halls,
Thou fair Alhambra! there the feast is o'er;
And with the murmur of thy fountain-falls,
Blend the wild tones of minstrelsy no more.
Regret
© Celia Thaxter
SOFTLY Death touched her and she passed away
Out of this glad, bright world she made more fair,
Five Prayers
© Blanche Edith Baughan
TO taste
Wild wine of the mountain-spring, fresh, living, strong,
A Garden Idyl
© George Meredith
Next day was told what deeds of night
Were done; the web had vanished quite;
With it the strange opposing pair;
And listless waved on vacant air,
For her adieu to heart's content,
A solitary filament.
To My Old Readers
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
Nor be forgotten our ANNEXES twain,
Nor HE, the owner of the squinting brain,
Which, while its curious fancies we pursue,
Oft makes us question, "Are we crack-brained too?"
On A Good Legg And Foot
© William Strode
If Hercules tall stature might bee guest
But by his thumbe, wherby to make the rest
Under The Old Elm
© James Russell Lowell
Placid completeness, life without a fall
From faith or highest aims, truth's breachless wall,
Surely if any fame can bear the touch,
His will say 'Here!' at the last trumpet's call,
The unexpressive man whose life expressed so much.
The Bloom of Life, fading in a happy Death.
© Mather Byles
I.
Great GOD, how frail a Thing is Man!
How swift his Minutes pass!
His Age contracts within a Span;
He blooms and dies like Grass.
Hellas: A Lyrical Drama
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
The curtain of the Universe
Is rent and shattered,
The splendour-wingèd worlds disperse
Like wild doves scattered.
Satana.
© Arthur Henry Adams
SHE draws all men to serve her, and her lure
Is her pulsating human loveliness
The beauty of her bosom's rippling lines,
The passion pleading in her eyes, the pure
London Snow
© Robert Seymour Bridges
When men were all asleep the snow came flying, In large white flakes falling on the city brown,
Stealthily and perpetually settling and loosely lying,
Go Away, Death!
© Alfred Austin
Go away, Death!
You have come too soon.
To sunshine and song I but just awaken,
And the dew on my heart is undried and unshaken;
Come back at noon.
The Little Dog
© Jean de La Fontaine
'TWOULD endless prove, and nothing would avail,
Each lover's pain minutely to detail:
Their arts and wiles; enough 'twill be no doubt,
To say the lady's heart was found so stout,
She let them sigh their precious hours away,
And scarcely seemed emotion to betray.
Lars
© Celia Thaxter
"Tell us a story of these Isles," they said,
The daughters of the West, whose eyes had seen
For the first time the circling sea, instead
Of the blown prairie's waves of grassy green:
Italy : 18. The Brides Of Venice
© Samuel Rogers
It was St. Mary's Eve, and all poured forth
As to some grand solemnity. The fisher
Came from his islet, bringing o'er the waves
His wife and little one; the husbandman
The Legend of the Organ Builder
© Julia Caroline (Ripley) Dorr
Day by day the Organ-Builder in his lonely chamber wrought;
Day by day the soft air trembled to the music of his thought,