Beauty poems

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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.

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Two Poems To Harriet Beecher Stowe

© Oliver Wendell Holmes

ON HER SEVENTIETH BIRTHDAY, JUNE 14, 1882


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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

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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.

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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.

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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.

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The Apostasy

© Thomas Traherne

One star

  Is better far

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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

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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;

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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,

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Ad Finem Fideles

© Guy Wetmore Carryl

Far out, far out they lie. Like stricken women weeping,

  Eternal vigil keeping with slow and silent tread—

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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.

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The Ancient Banner

© Anonymous

In boundless mercy, the Redeemer left,

The bosom of his Father, and assumed

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Beauty

© Abraham Cowley

LIBERAL Nature did dispence

To all things Arms for their defence;

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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.

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The Song Of Hiawatha VI: Hiawatha's Friends

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Two good friends had Hiawatha,

Singled out from all the others,

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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?

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To the Bramble Flower

© Ebenezer Elliott

Thy fruit full well the schoolboy knows,

Wild bramble of the brake!

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Waking

© Aldous Huxley

Darkness had stretched its colour,

  Deep blue across the pane: