Beauty poems

Astrophel and Stella: 101

© Sir Philip Sidney

Stella is sicke, and in that sicke bed liesSweetnesse, which breathes and pants as oft as she:And grace sick to, such fine conclusions tries,That sicknesse brags it selfe best graced to be

Astrophel and Stella: 90

© Sir Philip Sidney

Stella, thinke not that I by verse seeke fame,Who seeke, who hope; who loue, who liue but thee;Thine eyes my pride, thy lips mine history:If thou praise not, all other praise is shame

The Lust of the Eyes

© Siddall Elizabeth

I care not for my Lady's soul Though I worship before her smile;I care not where be my Lady's goal When her beauty shall lose its wile.

Fall

© Shields Carol

This is the time of year when golden-agersare taken on buses to view the autumn foliageas though the sight and scent of yellowed treeswill stuff them with beautiful thoughtsand keep them from knowing --

as if there were still a trace of undamagedhunger -- for simple beauty, for colours,the sun falling frail on the fretwork of every leaf, the trumpeting surpriseof the earth turning, returning

Dream Song 93: General Fatigue stalked in, and a Major-General

© John Berryman

General Fatigue stalked in, & a Major-General,
Captain Fatigue, and at the base of all
pale Corporal Fatigue,
and curious microbes came, came viruses:
and the Court conferred on Henry, and conferred on Henry
the rare Order of Weak.

Shakespeare's Sonnets: Who will believe my verse in time to come

© William Shakespeare

Who will believe my verse in time to comeIf it were fill'd with your most high deserts?Though yet heav'n knows it is but as a tombWhich hides your life and shews not half your parts:If I could write the beauty of your eyes,And in fresh numbers number all your graces,The age to come would say this poet lies,"Such heav'nly touches ne'er touch't earthly faces

Shakespeare's Sonnets: Whil'st I alone did call upon thy aid

© William Shakespeare

Whil'st I alone did call upon thy aid,My verse alone had all thy gentle grace,But now my gracious numbers are decay'd,And my sick muse doth give an other place

Shakespeare's Sonnets: When in the chronicle of wastèd time

© William Shakespeare

When in the chronicle of wastèd timeI see descriptions of the fairest wightsAnd beauty making beautiful old rhymeIn praise of ladies dead, and lovely knights,Then in the blazon of sweet beauty's best,Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,I see their antique pen would have express'tEv'n such a beauty as you master now

Shakespeare's Sonnets: When I do count the clock that tells the time

© William Shakespeare

When I do count the clock that tells the time,And see the brave day sunk in hid'ous night,When I behold the violet past prime,And sable curls' or silver'd o'er with white:When lofty trees I see barren of leaves,Which erst from heat did canopy the herd,And summer's green all girded up in sheavesBorne on the bier with white and bristly beard:Then of thy beauty do I question makeThat thou among the wastes of time must go,Since sweets and beauties do them-selves forsake,And die as fast as they see others grow, And nothing 'gainst time's scythe can make defence Save breed to brave him, when he takes thee hence

Shakespeare's Sonnets: When forty winters shall besiege thy brow

© William Shakespeare

When forty winters shall besiege thy browAnd dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field,Thy youth's proud livery, so gaz'd on now,Will be a totter'd weed of small worth held:Then being askt where all thy beauty lies,Where all the treasure of thy lusty days,To say within thine own deep-sunken eyesWere an all-eating shame, and thriftless praise

Shakespeare's Sonnets: What is your substance, whereof are you made

© William Shakespeare

What is your substance, whereof are you made,That millions of strange shadows on you tend?Since every one hath, every one, one shade,And you, but one, can every shadow lend

Shakespeare's Sonnets: Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend

© William Shakespeare

Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spendUpon thy self thy beauty's legacy?Nature's bequest gives nothing but doth lend,And being frank she lends to those are free:Then beauteous niggard, why dost thou abuseThe bounteous largess giv'n thee to give?Profitless usurer, why dost thou useSo great a sum of sums yet can'st not live?For having traffic with thy self alone,Thou of thy self thy sweet self dost deceive;Then how when nature calls thee to be gone,What acceptable audit can'st thou leave? Thy unus'd beauty must be tomb'd with thee, Which usèd lives th' executor to be

Shakespeare's Sonnets: To me, fair friend, you never can be old

© William Shakespeare

To me, fair friend, you never can be old,For as you were when first your eye I eyed,Such seems your beauty still: three winters coldHave from the forests shook three summers' pride,Three beaut'ous springs to yellow autumn turn'dIn process of the seasons have I seen

Shakespeare's Sonnets: Thus is his cheek the map of days out-worn

© William Shakespeare

Thus is his cheek the map of days out-wornWhen beauty liv'd and died as flow'rs do now,Before these bastard signs of fair were borneOr durst inhabit on a living brow:Before the golden tresses of the dead,The right of sepulchers, were shorn away,To live a second life on second head,Ere beauty's dead fleece made another gay

Shakespeare's Sonnets: Thou blind fool love, what dost thou to mine eyes

© William Shakespeare

Thou blind fool love, what dost thou to mine eyesThat they behold and see not what they see?They know what beauty is, see where it lies,Yet what the best is, take the worst to be

Shakespeare's Sonnets: Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits

© William Shakespeare

Those pretty wrongs that liberty commitsWhen I am some-time absent from thy heart,Thy beauty and thy years full well befits,For still temptation follows where thou art

Shakespeare's Sonnets: Those parts of thee that the world's eye doth view

© William Shakespeare

Those parts of thee that the world's eye doth viewWant nothing that the thought of hearts can mend:All tongues (the voice of souls) give thee that due,Utt'ring bare truth, ev'n so as foes commend

Shakespeare's Sonnets: Those lines that I before have writ do lie

© William Shakespeare

Those lines that I before have writ do lie,Ev'n those that said I could not love you dearer,Yet then my judgement knew no reason whyMy most full flame should afterwards burn clearer

Shakespeare's Sonnets: Those hours that with gentle work did frame

© William Shakespeare

Those hours that with gentle work did frameThe lovely gaze where every eye doth dwellWill play the tyrants to the very same,And that unfair which fairly doth excel,For never-resting time leads summer onTo hid'ous winter and confounds him there,Sap checkt with frost and lusty leaves quite gone,Beauty o'er-snow'd and bareness every where;Then were not summer's distillation leftA liquid pris'ner pent in walls of glass,Beauty's effect with beauty were bereft,Nor it nor no remembrance what it was

Shakespeare's Sonnets: Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me

© William Shakespeare

Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me,Knowing thy heart torment me with disdain,Have put on black, and loving mourners be,Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain