Beauty poems
/ page 63 of 313 /Astraea: The Balance Of Illusions
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
Dear to his age were memories such as these,
Leaves of his June in life's autumnal breeze;
Such were the tales that won my boyish ear,
Told in low tones that evening loves to hear.
Two Poems To Harriet Beecher Stowe
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
ON HER SEVENTIETH BIRTHDAY, JUNE 14, 1882
On A Landscape Bt Rubens
© William Lisle Bowles
Nay, let us gaze, ev'n till the sense is full,
Upon the rich creation, shadowed so
Standing-Stone Creek
© Madison Julius Cawein
A weed-grown slope, whereon the rain
Has washed the brown rocks bare,
Leads tangled from a lonely lane
Down to a creek's broad stair
Of stone, that, through the solitude,
Winds onward to a quiet wood.
The Empty Purse--A Sermon To Our Later Prodigal Son
© George Meredith
Thy knowledge of women might be surpassed:
As any sad dog's of sweet flesh when he quits
The wayside wandering bone!
No revilings of comrades as ingrates: thee
The tempter, misleader, and criminal (screened
By laws yet barbarous) own.
My Corn-Cob Pipe
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
Men may sing of their Havanas, elevating to the stars
The real or fancied virtues of their foreign-made cigars;
But I worship Nicotina at a different sort of shrine,
And she sits enthroned in glory in this corn-cob pipe of mine.
Cloud Pictures
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
Here in these mellow grasses, the whole morn,
I love to rest; yonder, the ripening corn
Rustles its greenery; and his blithesome horn
To ****
© Fitz-Greene Halleck
THE world is bright before thee,
Its summer flowers are thine,
Its calm blue sky is o'er thee,
Thy bosom Pleasure's shrine;
A Vision Of The Argonauts
© Richard Monckton Milnes
It is a privilege of great price to walk
With that old sorcerer Fable, hand in hand,
Adown the shadowy vale of History:
There is no other wand potent as his,
Ad Finem Fideles
© Guy Wetmore Carryl
Far out, far out they lie. Like stricken women weeping,
Eternal vigil keeping with slow and silent tread
The Adirondacs
© Ralph Waldo Emerson
Wise and polite,--and if I drew
Their several portraits, you would own
Chaucer had no such worthy crew,
Nor Boccace in Decameron.
The Ancient Banner
© Anonymous
In boundless mercy, the Redeemer left,
The bosom of his Father, and assumed
The Secret Draught of Wine
© Shams al-Din Hafiz
Like Hafiz, drain the goblet cheerfully
While minstrels touch the lute and sweetly sing,
For all that makes thy heart rejoice in thee
Hangs of Life's single, slender, silken string.
The Song Of Hiawatha VI: Hiawatha's Friends
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Two good friends had Hiawatha,
Singled out from all the others,
Pytheas
© Henry Kendall
Gaul whose keel in far, dim ages ploughed wan widths of polar sea
Gray old sailor of Massilia, who hath woven wreath for thee?
To the Bramble Flower
© Ebenezer Elliott
Thy fruit full well the schoolboy knows,
Wild bramble of the brake!