Beauty poems
/ page 62 of 313 /The Female Martyr
© John Greenleaf Whittier
"BRING out your dead!" The midnight street
Heard and gave back the hoarse, low call;
Spirit Voices
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
There are voices, spirit voices,
Sweetly sounding everywhere,
The Little Left Hand - Act II
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Lady Marian. Send
For others then. I see a girl at the street's end
Selling some mignonette. What do you say?
(Putting on a bow.) This bow,
Is it too bright for the rest?
Little Moozoo-May
© George Ade
The rose of June can feel no sorrow,
It never droops or says " Ah me! "
The Heroic Enthusiasts - Part The First =Third Dialogue.=
© Giordano Bruno
CIC. I do not believe it is always like that, Tansillo; because,
sometimes, notwithstanding that we discover the spirit to be vicious, we
remain heated and entangled; so that, although reason perceives the evil
and unworthiness of such a love, it yet has not power to alienate the
disordered appetite. In this disposition, I believe, was the Nolano when
he said:
The Revolt Of Islam: Canto I-XII
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
There is no danger to a man, that knows
What life and death is: there's not any law
Exceeds his knowledge; neither is it lawful
That he should stoop to any other law.
-Chapman.
The Sign
© Frederic Manning
We are here in a wood of little beeches:
And the leaves are like black lace
June On The Merrimac
© John Greenleaf Whittier
O dwellers in the stately towns,
What come ye out to see?
This common earth, this common sky,
This water flowing free?
An Incident In A Railroad Car
© James Russell Lowell
He spoke of Burns: men rude and rough
Pressed round to hear the praise of one
Whose heart was made of manly, simple stuff,
As homespun as their own.
The Lamp Of Greece
© Robert Laurence Binyon
The mind has flowered where she wooed the seed
Up from the darkness into beauty: there
Love listens, divine music fills the air,
Though we by glimpses only understand
Who in the present anguish of our need
Long for the light as for our native land.
The Origin of Cupid -- A Fable
© Mary Darby Robinson
MARS first his best excuses made,
War his delight and ancient trade;
Old NEPTUNE vow'd at such an age,
In state affairs he'd not engage:
BACCHUS preferr'd a draught of nectar
To any monarch's crown and sceptre.
Ballade Of True Wisdom
© Andrew Lang
Gods, grant or withhold it; your "yea" and your "nay"
Are immutable, heedless of outcry of ours:
But life IS worth living, and here we would stay
For a house full of books, and a garden of flowers.
There Are A Hundred Kinds Of Prayer (Quatrain in Farsi with English Translation)
© Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
emrôz chô har rôz, kharâb-êm kharâb
ma-g'shâ dar andêsha-wo bar gîr rabâb
Contrasted Songs: A Lily And The Lute
© Jean Ingelow
“Nay! but thou a spirit art;
Men shall take thee in the mart
For the ghost of their best thought,
Raised at noon, and near them brought;
Or the prayer they made last night,
Set before them all in white.”
At The Corregidors
© Madison Julius Cawein
To Don Odora says Donna De Vine:
"I yield to thy long endeavor!--
At my balcony be on the stroke of nine,
And, Signor, am thine forever!"
Autumn
© Boris Pasternak
I have allowed my family to scatter,
All those who were my dearest to depart,
And once again an age-long loneliness
Comes in to fill all nature and my heart.
The Grief Of Love
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Love, I am sick for thee, sick with an absolute grief,
Sick with the thought of thy eyes and lips and bosom.
All the beauty I saw, I see to my hurt revealed.
All that I felt I feel to--day for my pain and sorrow.