Beauty poems
/ page 93 of 313 /Storm
© Wilfred Owen
His face was charged with beauty as a cloud
With glimmering lightning. When it shadowed me
I shook, and was uneasy as a tree
That draws the brilliant danger, tremulous, bowed.
Love Elegy, to Laura
© Amelia Opie
Too heedless friend, why thus augment the flame
That glows resistless in my beating breast?
Why with thy praises grace his fatal name,
Who robs thy Emma's hapless heart of rest?
The Mirror Of Diana
© Mathilde Blind
Mild as a metaphor of Sleep,
Immaculately maiden-white,
The Queen Moon of ancestral night
Beholds her image in the deep:
As if a-gaze she beams above
Lake Nemi's magic glass of love.
Most Sweet it is
© William Wordsworth
. Most sweet it is with unuplifted eyes
To pace the ground, if path be there or none,
Tale II
© George Crabbe
frame.
Yes! old and grieved, and trembling with decay,
Was Allen landing in his native bay,
Willing his breathless form should blend with
Blossom.
© Arthur Henry Adams
A LONE rose in a garden burned a quivering flame,
But yesterday blindly from out the bud it came;
And now an envious wind with itching fingers leant
And touched its lingering beauty, and the petals went
A Thanksgiving and Prayer for the Nation
© Thomas Traherne
From A Serious and Pathetical Contemplation of the Mercies of God
O Lord, the children of my people are Thy peculiar treasures,
Prologue To The Second Part Of Henry IV
© Henry James Pye
AS ALTERED FROM SHAKESPEAR, BY THE REV. DR. VALPY, AND PERFORMED BY THE YOUNG GENTLEMEN OF READING SCHOOL.
Rhymed Plea For Tolerance - Prefatory Dialogue
© John Kenyon
Ye, thus who write in spite of critic law,
How had their satire kept your freaks in awe!
And, to sole sway controlling her pretence,
Bound Fancy down to compromise with Sense!
Revelation
© Aldous Huxley
Pure knowledge from this tainted well,
And now hears voices yet unheard
Within it, and without it sees
That world of which the poets tell
Their vision in the stammered word
Of those that wake from piercing ecstasies.
Crows At Washington
© John Hay
Slow flapping to the setting sun
By twos and threes, in wavering rows.
As twilight shadows dimly close,
The crows fly over Washington.
Agamemnons Tomb
© Emma Lazarus
Uplift the ponderous, golden mask of death,
And let the sun shine on him as it did
To Me, Fair Friend, You Never Can Be Old
© William Shakespeare
To me, fair Friend, you never can be old,
For as you were when first your eye I eyed
Such seems your beauty still, Three winters' cold
Have from the forests shook three summers' pride;
Homage To Sextus Propertius - IX
© Ezra Pound
1
The twisted rhombs ceased their clamour of accompaniment;
The scorched laurel lay in the fire-dust;
The moon still declined to descend out of heaven,
Totem
© Sylvia Plath
The engine is killing the track, the track is silver,
It stretches into the distance. It will be eaten nevertheless.
The Ring And The Book - Chapter X - The Pope
© Robert Browning
Then Stephen, Pope and seventh of the name,
Cried out, in synod as he sat in state,
While choler quivered on his brow and beard,
Come into court, Formosus, thou lost wretch,
That claimedst to be late the Pope as I!
An Improvisation
© George MacDonald
The stars cleave the sky.
Yet for us they rest,
And their race-course high
Is a shining nest!