Beauty poems

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A club there is established here, whose name they say is Legion;
From Melbourne to the Billabong they're known in every region.
They do not like the cockatoos, but mostly stick to stations,
Where they keep themselves from starving by cadging shepherd's rations.

Fetching The Wounded

© Robert Laurence Binyon

At the road's end glimmer the station lights;
How small beneath the immense hollow of Night's
Lonely and living silence! Air that raced
And tingled on the eyelids as we faced

To A Beautiful Woman

© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

SURELY, dame Nature made you in some dream
Of old-world women--Chriemhild, or bright
Aslauga, or Boadicea fierce and fair,
Or Berengaria as she rose, her lips
Yet ruddy from the poison that anoints
Her memory still, the queen of queenly wives.

A Mother Gazes Upon Her Daughter

© Henry Timrod

Is she not lovely! Oh! when, long ago,
My own dead mother gazed upon my face,
As I stood blushing near in bridal snow,
I had not half her beauty and her grace.

An Epilogue To Love

© Arthur Symons

I

Love now, my heart, there is but now to love;

The Merchant Ship

© Henry Kendall

The Sun oer the waters was throwing

In the freshness of morning its beams;

The Spirea

© Paul Hamilton Hayne

OF all the subtle fires of earth
Which rise in form of spring-time flowers,
Oh, say if aught of purer birth
Is nursed by suns and showers

The Rabbit Catcher

© Sylvia Plath

It was a place of force
The wind gagging my mouth with my own blown hair,
Tearing off my voice, and the sea
Blinding me with its lights, the lives of the dead
Unreeling in it, spreading like oil.

The Invitation

© Edith Nesbit

DELIA, my dear, delightful Lady,
Time flies in town, you say,
New gowns shine fresh as May,
The Park is glad and gay,
Ah--but the woods are green and shady--
Come, Delia, come away!

Sonnet XLVI: Let others sing of knights and paladines

© Samuel Daniel

XLVI

Let others sing of knights and paladines

The Unloved

© Arthur Symons

These are the women whom no man has loved.

Year after year, day after day has moved

Scenes From The Faust Of Goethe

© Percy Bysshe Shelley

CHORUS:
Thy countenance gives the Angels strength,
Though none can comprehend Thee:
And all Thy lofty works
Are excellent as at the first day.

An Ode On The Peace

© Helen Maria Williams

I.

As wand'ring late on Albion's shore

Sonnet XLVI.

Written at Penhurst, in Autumn 1788.
YE towers sublime! deserted now and drear!
Ye woods! deep sighing to the hollow blast,
The musing wanderer loves to linger near,

Christmas

© Edith Nesbit

WITH garlands to grace it, with laughter to greet it,

Christmas is here, holly-red and snow-white,

Daphles. An Argive Story

But the Queen's host by skilful champions led,
Its powers meanwhile concentred to a head,
Lay, an embattled force with wary eye,
Ready to ward or strike whene'er the cry
Of coming foemen on their ears should fall,
Nigh the huge towers which guard the capital.

To His Fairest Valentine Mrs. A. L.

"Come, pretty birds, present your lays,
And learn to chaunt a goddess praise;
Ye wood-nymphs, let your voices be
Employ'd to serve her deity:
And warble forth, ye virgins nine,
Some music to my Valentine.