Beauty poems
/ page 95 of 313 /The Vision By The Sea
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
I.
A HAUNTING face! with strange, ethereal eyes,
Deep as unfathomed gulfs of tranquil skies
When o'er their brightness a vague mist is drawn,
Sordello: Book the Sixth
© Robert Browning
The thought of Eglamor's least like a thought,
And yet a false one, was, "Man shrinks to nought
To My Country
© Katharine Lee Bates
O dear my Country, beautiful and dear,
Love cloth not darken sight.
A Rejected Lover To His Mistress (I)
© Frances Anne Kemble
Knowest thou not that of all human gifts
God chooses love?alone, that may be laid
Athenasia
© Oscar Wilde
To that gaunt House of Art which lacks for naught
Of all the great things men have saved from Time,
The withered body of a girl was brought
Dead ere the world's glad youth had touched its prime,
And seen by lonely Arabs lying hid
In the dim wound of some black pyramid.
The Three-Decker
© Rudyard Kipling
Full thirty foot she towered from waterline to rail.
It cost a watch to steer her, and a week to shorten sail;
But, spite all modern notions, I found her first and best -
The only certain packet for the Islands of the Blest.
March
© William Cullen Bryant
The stormy March is come at last,
With wind, and cloud, and changing skies,
I hear the rushing of the blast,
That through the snowy valley flies.
Hoar-Frost
© Madison Julius Cawein
The frail eidolons of all blossoms Spring,
Year after year, about the forest tossed,
Gravikty
© Harold Monro
I
Fit for perpetual worship is the power
That holds our bodies safely to the earth.
On The Plethora Of Dryads
© Sylvia Plath
Hearing a white saint rave
About a quintessential beauty
Visible only to the paragon heart,
I tried my sight on an apple-tree
That for eccentric knob and wart
Had all my love.
Loraine
© George Essex Evans
In her dark-ringed eyes shone the sad unrest
That spoke in the heave of her troubled breast,
And her face was white as the chiselled stone,
And her lips pressed madly against my own,
And her heart beat wildly against my heart,
And we strove to go, but we could not part.
The Gods Of Greece
© John Kenyon
Ye Gods of Greece! Bright Fictions! when
Ye ruled, of old, a happier race,
Down The Lanes Of August
© Edgar Albert Guest
DOWN the lanes of Augustand the bees upon the wing,
All the world's in color now, and all the song birds sing;
Never reds will redder be, more golden be the gold,
Down the lanes of August, and the summer getting old.
God Made This Day For Me
© Edgar Albert Guest
This is jes' my style o' weather-sunshine floodin' all the place,
An' the breezes from the eastward blowin' gently on my face;
An' the woods chock full o' singin' till you'd think birds never had
A single care to fret 'em or a grief to make 'em sad.
Oh, I settle down contented in the shadow of a tree,
An' tell myself right proudly that the day was made fer me.
The White Maiden And The Indian Girl
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Child of the Woods, bred in leafy dell,
See the palace home in which I dwell,
With its lofty walls and casements wide,
And objects of beauty on every side;
Now, tell me, dost thou not think it bliss
To dwell in a home as bright as this?
The Poet And The Muse
© Alfred Austin
Whither, and whence, and why hast fled?
Thou art dumb, my muse; thou art dumb, thou art dead,
As a waterless stream, as a leafless tree.
What have I done to banish thee?
Bryant On His Birthday
© John Greenleaf Whittier
We praise not now the poet's art,
The rounded beauty of his song;
Who weighs him from his life apart
Must do his nobler nature wrong.
The Defeat of Youth
© Aldous Huxley
I. UNDER THE TREES.
There had been phantoms, pale-remembered shapes