Beauty poems
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Les Phares (The Beacons)
© Charles Baudelaire
Rubens, fleuve d'oubli, jardin de la paresse,
Oreiller de chair fraîche où l'on ne peut aimer,
Mais où la vie afflue et s'agite sans cesse,
Comme l'air dans le ciel et la mer dans la mer;
A Good-Bye
© Edith Nesbit
FAREWELL! How soon unmeasured distance rolls
Its leaden clouds between our parted souls!
How little to each other now are we--
And once how much I dreamed we two might be!
I, who now stand with eyes undimmed and dry
To say good-bye--
The Poor Of The Borough. Letter XX: Ellen Orford
© George Crabbe
"No charms she now can boast,"--'tis true,
But other charmers wither too:
Glenfinlas; or, Lord Ronald's Coronach
© Sir Walter Scott
"O hone a rie'! O hone a rie!"
The pride of Albin's line is o'er,
And fall'n Glenartney's stateliest tree;
We ne'er shall see Lord Ronald more!" -
Advice: to himself
© Gaius Valerius Catullus
Sad Catullus, stop playing the fool,
and let what you know leads you to ruin, end.
On The Death Of Prince Meshchersky
© Gavrila Romanovich Derzhavin
O, Voice of time! O, metal's clang!
Your dreadful call distresses me,
Maha-Bharata, The Epic Of Ancient India - Book V - Pativrata-Mahatmya - (Woman's Love)
© Romesh Chunder Dutt
The great _rishi_ Vyasa came to visit Yudhishthir, and advised Arjun,
great archer as he was, to acquire celestial arms by penance and
worship. Arjun followed the advice, met the god SIVA in the guise
of a hunter, pleased him by his prowess in combat, and obtained his
blessings and the _pasupata_ weapon. Arjun then went to INDRA'S
heaven and obtained other celestial arms.
The Penitent's Return
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
My father's house once more,
In its own moonlight beauty! yet around,
Something, amidst the dewy calm profound,
Broods, never marked before!
The Lily
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
VIEW us, white-robed lilies,
We whose beauty's rareness
Sleeps until the bridegroom sun
Woos our virgin fairness.
Hyperion. Book I
© John Keats
Deep in the shady sadness of a vale
Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn,
Poetry
© Madison Julius Cawein
Who hath beheld the goddess face to face,
Blind with her beauty, all his days shall go
Climbing lone mountains towards her temple's place,
Weighed with song's sweet, inexorable woe.
Cock-Crowing
© Henry Vaughan
Father of lights! what sunny seed,
What glance of day hast Thou confined
Into this bird? To all the breed
This busy ray Thou hast assigned;
Their magnetism works all night,
And dreams of paradise and light.
I Found A Few Old Letters
© Rabindranath Tagore
XIV
I found a few old letters of mine carefully hidden in thy boxa few small toys for thy memory to play with. With a timorous heart thou didst try to steal these trifles from the turbulent stream of time which washes away planets and stars, and didst say, These are only mine! Alas, there is no one now who can claim themwho is able to pay their price; yet they are still here. Is there no love in this world to rescue thee from utter loss, even like this love of thine that saved these letters with such fond care?
O woman, thou camest for a moment to my side and touched me with the great mystery of the woman that there is in the heart of creationshe who ever gives back to God his own outflow of sweetness; who is the eternal love and beauty and youth; who dances in bubbling streams and sings in the morning light; who with heaving waves suckles the thirsty earth and whose mercy melts in rain; in whom the eternal one breaks in two in joy that can contain itself no more and overflows in the pain of love.
At The Papyrus Club
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
He 's lost his mother--so he cries--
And here he knows he'll find her:
The rogue! 't is but a new device,--
Look out for flying arrows
Whene'er the birds of Paradise
Are perched amid the sparrows!
"Flowers Of France" Decoration Poem For Soldiers' Graves, Tours, France, May 30, 1918
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Flowers of France in the Spring,
Your growth is a beautiful thing;
The Fools
© Muriel Stuart
BELOW, the street was hoarse with cries,
With groan of carts and scuffling feet,
With laughter worse than blasphemies,
Was choked with dust and blind with heat,
This room was still-too still for peace.
The Poetry Of Shelley
© George Meredith
See'st thou a Skylark whose glistening winglets ascending
Quiver like pulses beneath the melodious dawn?
Deep in the heart-yearning distance of heaven it flutters -
Wisdom and beauty and love are the treasures it brings down at eve.
A New Year's Plea
© Edgar Albert Guest
Lord, let me stand in the thick of the fight,
Let me bear what I must without whining;
Grant me the wisdom to do what is right,
Though a thousand false beacons are shining.
At The Funeral Of A Minor Poet
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
[One of the Bearers Soliloquizes:]
. . . Room in your heart for him, O Mother Earth,
