Beauty poems
/ page 67 of 313 /Elegy XVIII. He Repeats the Song of Colin, a Discerning Shepherd
© William Shenstone
Ergo omni studio glaciem ventosque nivales,
Quo minus est illis curæ mortalis egestas,
Avertes: victumque feres. ~Virg.
She Mothered Five
© Edgar Albert Guest
She mothered five!
Night after night she watched a little bed,
A Bunch Of Trout-Flies
© Henry Van Dyke
Here's a half-a-dozen flies,
Just about the proper size
For the trout of Dickey's Run,
Luck go with them every one!
To Chloe, Courting Her For His Friend
© Richard Lovelace
I.
Chloe, behold! againe I bowe:
Againe possest, againe I woe;
From my heat hath taken fire
To Time
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Time, Time, who choosest
All in the end well;
Who severely refusest
Fames upon trumpets blown
Loud for a day, and alone
Makest truth to excel:
The Offering
© Robert Laurence Binyon
O love, in whose heart--murmured name
Is charm against life's endless wrong,
Since all the untuned world became
In you a song!
Michael Oaktree
© Alfred Noyes
Under an arch of glorious leaves I passed
Out of the wood and saw the sickle moon
Floating in daylight o'er the pale green sea.
The Borough. Letter XI: Inns
© George Crabbe
All the comforts of life in a Tavern are known,
'Tis his home who possesses not one of his own;
And to him who has rather too much of that one,
'Tis the house of a friend where he's welcome to
A Seamark
© Bliss William Carman
COLD, the dull cold! What ails the sun,
And takes the heart out of the day?
What makes the morning look so mean,
The Common so forlorn and gray?
As When From Dreams Awaking.
© Caroline Norton
Like the stars, some power divides them
From a world of want and pain;
They are there, but daylight hides them,
And we look for them in vain.
For a while we dwell with sadness,
On the beauty of that dream,
Hart-Leap Well
© William Wordsworth
THE Knight had ridden down from Wensley Moor
With the slow motion of a summer's cloud,
And now, as he approached a vassal's door,
"Bring forth another horse!" he cried aloud.
Loves Cruelty
© Arthur Symons
Beauty of woman, savour of her kiss,
The mystery of love that turns to be
Answer To Cloe Jealous. The Author Sick
© Matthew Prior
Yes, fairest Proof of Beauty's Pow'r,
Dear Idol of My panting Heart,
Nature points This my fatal Hour:
And I have liv'd; and We must part.
The Keepsake
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
The tedded hay, the first-fruits of the soil,
The tedded hay and corn-sheaves in one field,
Show summer gone, ere come. The foxglove tall
Sheds its loose purple bells, or in the gust,
A Cottage In A Chine
© Jean Ingelow
We reached the place by night,
And heard the waves breaking:
They came to meet us with candles alight
To show the path we were taking.
A myrtle, trained on the gate, was white
With tufted flowers down shaking.
When June Is Past, The Fading Rose
© Thomas Carew
Ask me no more where Jove bestows,
When June is past, the fading rose;
For in your beauty's orient deep
These flowers as in their causes, sleep.
A Peaceful Village on the Banks of the Leven - A Summer Landscape
© Michael Bruce
Fair from his hand behold the village rise,
In rural pride, 'mong intermingled trees!
A Day At Tivoli - Prologue
© John Kenyon
Yet, if All die, there are who die not All;
(So Flaccus hoped), and half escape the pall.
The Sacred Few! whom love of glory binds,
"That last infirmity of noble minds,
"To scorn delights, and live laborious days,"