Beauty poems

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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.

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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?

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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.

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Most Sweet it is

© William Wordsworth

.  Most sweet it is with unuplifted eyes

 To pace the ground, if path be there or none,

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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

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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

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Morning in the Bush

© Henry Kendall

Above the skirts of yellow clouds,

The god-like Sun, arrayed

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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,

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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.


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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!

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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.

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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.

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Threnody

© Bion of Smyrna

I weep for Adonais--he is dead!

  Dead Adonais lies, and mourning all,

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Agamemnon’s Tomb

© Emma Lazarus

Uplift the ponderous, golden mask of death,

And let the sun shine on him as it did

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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;

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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,

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Totem

© Sylvia Plath

The engine is killing the track, the track is silver,

It stretches into the distance. It will be eaten nevertheless.

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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!’

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An Improvisation

© George MacDonald

The stars cleave the sky.
Yet for us they rest,
And their race-course high
Is a shining nest!