Beauty poems
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The Visionary Face
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
I AM happy with her I love,
In a circle of charmed repose;
My soul leaps up to follow her feet
Wherever my darling goes;
The Image
© Katharine Tynan
When a wild grace I see,
A turn o' the neck, a curl, sweet hands, clear eyes,
Gentleness, courtesy, dignity;
In all these gifts Thee I surmise, surprise.
The Resurrection
© Giacomo Leopardi
I thought I had forever lost,
Alas, though still so young,
The tender joys and sorrows all,
That unto youth belong;
Thy Beauty Fades
© Jones Very
Thy beauty fades and with it too my love,
For 'twas the self-same stalk that bore its flower;
To a Lady Before Marriage
© Thomas Tickell
Oh! form'd by Nature, and refin'd by Art,
With charms to win, and sense to fix the heart!
The Beggar's Opera (excerpts)
© John Gay
Air I.An old woman clothed in gray, &c.1-
Through all the employments of life
From CLIO
© Martha Sansom
We every Day grew dearer to each other. I was then
indeed as blind as he. I gave him every Perfection, and
began to love in earnest. How did I want a Friend to
guard me from this Precipice, where Love was leading
me, to warn me of this Serpent, who was sacking out the
Sweetness of my Soul, and laying every Art to destroy it!
The Ships Of Saint John
© Bliss William Carman
Frenchman and Britisher and Dane,
Yankee, Spaniard and Portugee,
And many a home ship back again
With her stories of the sea.
Elegiac Feelings American
© Gregory Corso
Aye, what happened to you, dear friend, compassionate friend,
is what is happening to everyone and thing of
planet the clamorous sadly desperate planet now
one voice less. . . expendable as the wind. . . gone,
and who'll now blow away the awful miasma of
sick, sick and dying earthflesh-soul America
The Lady Of La Garaye - Part I
© Caroline Norton
So, till the day when over Dinan's walls
The Autumn sunshine of my story falls;
And the guests bidden, gather for the chase,
And the smile brightens on the lovely face
That greets them in succession as they come
Into that high and hospitable home.
The Spaniards' Graves
© Celia Thaxter
O sailors, did sweet eyes look after you
The day you sailed away from sunny Spain?
Bright eyes that followed fading ship and crew,
Melting in tender rain?
Cora
© Charles Harpur
The spring it came, with never a storm,
And nine times came and went,
Till its whole spirit with her form
In budding beauty blent.
Dreams
© Emma Lazarus
A DREAM of lilies: all the blooming earth,
A garden full of fairies and of flowers;
Its only music the glad cry of mirth,
While the warm sun weaves golden-tissued hours;
Elegy, Written In The Year 1758
© James Beattie
Still, shall unthinking man substantial deem
The forms that fleet through life's deceitful dream?
On clouds, where Fancy's beam amusive plays,
Shall heedless Hope the towering fabric raise?
Al Aaraaf: Part 1
© Edgar Allan Poe
PART I
O! nothing earthly save the ray
(Thrown back from flowers) of Beauty's eye,
As in those gardens where the day
The Forest Pool
© Edith Nesbit
LEAN down and see your little face
Reflected in the forest pool,
Tall foxgloves grow about the place,
Forget-me-nots grow green and cool.
Look deep and see the naiad rise
To meet the sunshine of your eyes.
The Cloud Messenger - Part 02
© Kalidasa
Your naturally beautiful reflection will gain entry into the clear waters of the
Gambhira River, as into a clear mind. Therefore it is not fitting that you, out
of obstinancy, should render futile her glances which are the darting leaps of
little fish, as white as night-lotus flowers.
Sonnet On The Sonnet
© Lord Alfred Douglas
This is the sonnet, this is all delight
Of every flower that blows in every Spring,
And all desire of every desert place;
This is the joy that fills a cloudy night
When bursting from her misty following,
A perfect moon wins to an empty space.
Song
© Madison Julius Cawein
Unto the portal of the House of Song,
Symbols of wrong and emblems of unrest,
And mottoes of despair and envious jest,
And stony masks of scorn and hate belong.
At Magnolia Cemetery
© Henry Timrod
SLEEP sweetly in your humble graves,
Sleep, martyrs of a fallen cause;
Though yet no marble column craves
The pilgrim here to pause.
