Hope is a strange invention --
Hope is a strange invention --
A Patent of the Heart --
In unremitting action
Yet never wearing out --
Of this electric Adjunct
Not anything is known
But its unique momentum
Embellish all we own --
Poems on the topic: beauty
Poems on the topic “beauty” on Poets.by.
Autumn -- overlooked my Knitting --
Autumn -- overlooked my Knitting --
Dyes -- said He -- have I --
Could disparage a Flamingo --
Show Me them -- said I --
Cochineal -- I chose -- for deeming
It resemble Thee --
And the little Border -- Dusker --
For resembling Me --
I died for Beauty -- but was scarce
I died for Beauty -- but was scarce
Adjusted in the Tomb
When One who died for Truth, was lain
In an adjoining room --
He questioned softly "Why I failed"?
"For Beauty", I replied --
"And I -- for Truth -- Themself are One --
We Brethren, are", He said --
And so, as Kinsmen, met a Night --
We talked between the Rooms --
Until the Moss had reached our lips --
And covered up -- our names --
A Light exists in Spring
A Light exists in Spring
Not present on the Year
At any other period --
When March is scarcely here
A Color stands abroad
On Solitary Fields
That Science cannot overtake
But Human Nature feels.
It waits upon the Lawn,
It shows the furthest Tree
Upon the furthest Slope you know
It almost speaks to you.
Then as Horizons step
Or Noons report away
Without the Formula of sound
It passes and we stay --
To see the Summer Sky
To see the Summer Sky
Is Poetry, though never in a Book it lie --
True Poems flee --
I cannot meet the Spring unmoved --
I cannot meet the Spring unmoved --
I feel the old desire --
A Hurry with a lingering, mixed,
A Warrant to be fair --
A Competition in my sense
With something hid in Her --
And as she vanishes, Remorse
I saw no more of Her.
Some such Butterfly be seen
Some such Butterfly be seen
On Brazilian Pampas --
Just at noon -- no later -- Sweet --
Then -- the License closes --
Some such Spice -- express and pass --
Subject to Your Plucking --
As the Stars -- You knew last Night --
Foreigners -- This Morning --
The pretty Rain from those sweet Eaves
The pretty Rain from those sweet Eaves
Her unintending Eyes --
Took her own Heart, including ours,
By innocent Surprise --
The wrestle in her simple Throat
To hold the feeling down
That vanquished her -- defeated Feat --
Was Fervor's sudden Crown --
It will be Summer -- eventually.
It will be Summer -- eventually.
Ladies -- with parasols --
Sauntering Gentlemen -- with Canes --
And little Girls -- with Dolls --
Will tint the pallid landscape --
As 'twere a bright Bouquet --
Thro' drifted deep, in Parian --
The Village lies -- today --
The Lilacs -- bending many a year --
Will sway with purple load --
The Bees -- will not despise the tune --
Their Forefathers -- have hummed --
The Wild Rose -- redden in the Bog --
The Aster -- on the Hill
Her everlasting fashion -- set --
And Covenant Gentians -- frill --
How many Flowers fail in Wood
How many Flowers fail in Wood --
Or perish from the Hill --
Without the privilege to know
That they are Beautiful --
How many cast a nameless Pod
Upon the nearest Breeze --
Unconscious of the Scarlet Freight --
It bear to Other Eyes --
A full fed Rose on meals of Tint
A full fed Rose on meals of Tint
A Dinner for a Bee
In process of the Noon became -
Each bright Mortality
The Forfeit is of Creature fair
Itself, adored before
Submitting for our unknown sake
To be esteemed no more --
The Moon was but a Chin of Gold
The Moon was but a Chin of Gold
A Night or two ago --
And now she turns Her perfect Face
Upon the World below --
Her Forehead is of Amplest Blonde --
Her Cheek -- a Beryl hewn --
Her Eye unto the Summer Dew
The likest I have known --
Her Lips of Amber never part --
But what must be the smile
Upon Her Friend she could confer
Were such Her Silver Will --
And what a privilege to be
But the remotest Star --
For Certainty She take Her Way
Beside Your Palace Door --
Describe a feeling — we’ll find a poem
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