Beauty poems
/ page 11 of 313 /
The Flying Fish
© Gray John Henry
Magnae Deus potentiaequi fertili natos aquapartim relinquis gurgitipartim levas in aera.
Seagulls
© Gerald Gould
Two seagulls flying Alone and away,Gold in the dying Gold of the day,Soon will turn silver, soon Pass out of sight:Silvered they'll be in the moon, And sped in the night.
The Rising Village
© Oliver Goldsmith
Thou dear companion of my early years,Partner of all my boyish hopes and fears,To whom I oft addressed the youthful strain,And sought no other praise than thine to gain;Who oft hast bid me emulate his fameWhose genius formed the glory of our name;Say, when thou canst, in manhood's ripened age,With judgment scan the more aspiring page,Wilt thou accept this tribute of my lay,By far too small thy fondness to repay?Say, dearest Brother, wilt thou now excuseThis bolder flight of my adventurous muse? If, then, adown your cheek a tear should flowFor Auburn's Village, and its speechless woe;If, while you weep, you think the
Primroses
© William Gay
They shine upon my table there, A constellation mimic, sweet,No stars in Heaven could shine more fair, Nor Earth has beauty more complete;And on my table there they shine, And speak to me of things Divine
Gascoigne's Lullaby
© George Gascoigne
Sing lullaby, as women do,Wherewith they bring their babes to rest;And lullaby can I sing to,As womanly as can the best
Flaxman
© Fuller Margaret
We deemed the secret lost, the spirit gone, Which spake in Greek simplicity of thought, And in the forms of gods and heroes wroughtEternal beauty from the sculptured stone,-A higher charm than modern culture won With all the wealth of metaphysic lore, Gifted to analyze, dissect, explore
Christ's Triumph after Death
© Giles Fletcher The Younger
IBegan to glister in her beams, and nowThe roses of the day began to flow'rIn th' eastern garden; for Heav'ns smiling browHalf insolent for joy begun to show: The early Sun came lively dancing out, And the brag lambs ran wantoning about,That heav'n, and earth might seem in triumph both to shout
The Petition for an Absolute Retreat
© Anne Finch - Countess of Winchilsea
(Inscribed to the Right Honourable Catharine Countess of Thanet, mentioned in the poem under the name of Arminda)
The Women of the West
© George Essex Evans
They left the vine-wreathed cottage and the mansion on the hill,The houses in the busy streets where life is never still,The pleasures of the city, and the friends they cherished best:For love they faced the wilderness -- the Women of the West
Written with a Pencil in Darfield Churchyard
© Ebenezer Elliott
Man draws his fleeting breathIn doubt and fear,Though life for ever blooms,And smiling ev'n on tombs,Bids beauty say to death,"What dost thou here?"
A Sea of Foliage Girds our Garden round
© Toru Dutt
A sea of foliage girds our garden round, But not a sea of dull unvaried green, Sharp contrasts of all colors here are seen;The light-green graceful tamarinds aboundAmid the mango clumps of green profound, And palms arise, like pillars gray, between; And o'er the quiet pools the seemuls lean,Red-red, and startling like a trumpet's sound
An Evening Contemplation in a College
© Duncombe John
The Curfew tolls the hour of closing gates,With jarring sound the porter turns the key,Then in his dreary mansion slumb'ring waits,And slowly, sternly quits it -- tho' for me.
Alexander's Feast
© John Dryden
I By Philip's warlike son: Aloft in awful state The godlike hero sate On his imperial throne; His valiant peers were plac'd around;Their brows with roses and with myrtles bound: (So should desert in arms be crown'd
Madrigal: My Thoughts Hold Mortal Strife
© William Drummond (of Hawthornden)
My thoughts hold mortal strife,I do detest my life,And with lamenting cries,Peace to my soul to bring,Oft calls that prince which here doth monarchize;But he, grim-grinning king,Who caitiffs scorns and doth the blest surprise, Late having deck'd with beauty's rose his tomb, Disdains to crop a weed, and will not come
Endimion and Phoebe
© Michael Drayton
In Ionia whence sprang old poets' fame,From whom that sea did first derive her name,The blessed bed whereon the Muses lay,Beauty of Greece, the pride of Asia,Whence Archelaus, whom times historify,First unto Athens brought philosophy:In this fair region on a goodly plain,Stretching her bounds unto the bord'ring main,The mountain Latmus overlooks the sea,Smiling to see the ocean billows play:Latmus, where young Endymion used to keepHis fairest flock of silver-fleeced sheep,To whom Silvanus often would resort,At barley-brake to see the Satyrs sport;And when rude Pan his tabret list to sound,To see the fair Nymphs foot it in a round,Under the trees which on this mountain grew,As yet the like Arabia never knew;For all the pleasures Nature could deviseWithin this plot she did imparadise;And great Diana of her special graceWith vestal rites had hallowed all the place
La Belle et la Bête
© Mark Doty
"My heart," he said, "is the heartof a beast." What could she dobut love him? First she must resist:the copper bowls gleaming on the rack
To the Countess of Bedford [Madam, Reason is our soul's left hand, faith her right...]
© John Donne
Madam,Reason is our soul's left hand, faith her right, By these we reach divinity, that's you;Their loves, who have the blessing of your sight, Grew from their reason, mine from fair faith grew.
