Beauty poems
/ page 49 of 313 /
And Wilt Thou Weep When I Am Low?
© George Gordon Byron
And wilt thou weep when I am low?
Sweet lady! speak those words again:
Yet if they grieve thee, say not so--
I would not give that bosom pain.
At Penshurst
© Edmund Waller
Had Sacharissa lived when mortals made
Choice of their deities, this sacred shade
To A Black Gin.
© James Brunton Stephens
DAUGHTER of Eve, draw near I would behold thee.
Good Heavens! Could ever arm of man enfold thee?
What Are Cities For?
© Robinson Jeffers
The earth has covered Sicilian Syracuse, there asphodel grows,
As golden-rod will over New York.
Flame And Snow
© Robert Laurence Binyon
The bare branches rose against the gray sky.
Under them, freshly fallen, snow shone to the eye.
Up the hill--slope, over the brow it shone,
Spreading an immaterial beauty to tread upon.
Oglethorpe
© Madison Julius Cawein
An Ode to be read on the laying of the foundation
stone of the new Oglethorpe University,
Arrival In Rome
© Frances Anne Kemble
Early in life, when hope seems prophecy,
And strong desire can sometimes mould a fate,
The Lily
© William Blake
The modest Rose puts forth a thorn,
The humble sheep a threat'ning horn:
While the Lily white shall in love delight,
Nor a thorn nor a threat stain her beauty bright.
Aaj Jaane Ki Zid Na Karo
© Fayyaz Hashmi
Aaj jaane ki zid na karo
Yunhi pehloo mein baithe raho
Aaj jaane ki zid na karo
Hai mar jaayenge, hum to lut jaayenge
Aisi baatein kiya na karo
Aaj jaane ki zid na karo
The Pressed Gentian
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The time of gifts has come again,
And, on my northern window-pane,
Outlined against the day's brief light,
A Christmas token hangs in sight.
The Judgment Of Paris
© James Beattie
Far in the depth of Ida's inmost grove,
A scene for love and solitude design'd;
Where flowery woodbines wild, by Nature wove,
Form'd the lone bower, the royal swain reclined.
Words From The Wind
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
I called to the wind of the Winter,
As he sped like a steed on his way,
"Oh! rest for awhile on thy journey,
And answer these questions, I pray.
Musette
© Henri Murger
Yesterday, watching the swallows' flight
That bring the spring and the season fair,
Sketch From Bowden Hill After Sickness
© William Lisle Bowles
How cheering are thy prospects, airy hill,
To him who, pale and languid, on thy brow
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: XXXIII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Such was the legend. I had read it through
Twice ere I thought of thinking what it meant.
And as I turned with a sigh because I knew
That I alone perhaps of all who went
Ash-Wednesday
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Glittring balls and thoughtless revels
Fill up now each misspent night
The TigerLily
© Robert Laurence Binyon
What wouldst thou with me? By what spell
My spirit allure, absorb, compel?
The last long beam that thou didst drink
Is buried now on evening's brink.
