The Young that Died in Beauty
If souls should only sheen so bright
In heaven as in e’thly light,
An’ nothen better wer the cease,
How comely still, in sheape an’ feace,
Would many reach thik happy pleace, –
The hopevul souls that in their prime
Ha’ seem’d a-took avore their time, –
The young that died in beauty.
But when woone’s lim’s ha’ lost their strangth
A-tweilen drough a lifetime’s langth,
An’ over cheaks a-growen wold
The slowly-weasten years ha’ roll’d
The deep’nen wrinkle’s hollow vwold;
When life is ripe, then death do call
Vor less ov thought, than when do vall
On young vo’ks in their beauty.
But pinen souls, wi’ heads a-hung
In heavy sorrow vor the young,
The sister ov the brother dead,
The father wi’ a child a-vled,
The husband when his bride ha’ laid
Her head at rest, noo mwore to turn,
Have all a-vound the time to murn
Vor youth that died in beauty.
An’ yeet the church, where prayer do rise
Vrom thoughtvul souls, wi’ downcast eyes,
An’ village greens, a-beat half beare
By dancers that do meet, an’ wear
Such merry looks at feast an’ feair,
Do gather under leatest skies,
Their bloomen cheaks an’ sparklen eyes,
Though young ha’ died in beauty.
But still the dead shall mwore than keep
The beauty ov their early sleep;
Where comely looks shall never wear
Uncomely, under tweil an’ ceare.
The feair at death be always feair,
Still feair to livers’ thought an’ love,
An’ feairer still to God above,
Than when they died in beauty.
Related poetry:
- 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 […]...
- To A Poet That Died Young Minstrel, what have you to do With this man that, after you, Sharing not your happy fate, Sat as England’s Laureate? Vainly, in these iron days, Strives the poet in your praise, Minstrel, by whose singing side Beauty walked, until you died. Still, though none should hark again, Drones the blue-fly in the pane, Thickly […]...
- To A Young Beauty Dear fellow-artist, why so free With every sort of company, With every Jack and Jill? Choose your companions from the best; Who draws a bucket with the rest Soon topples down the hill. You may, that mirror for a school, Be passionate, not bountiful As common beauties may, Who were not born to keep in […]...
- Seeking Beauty Cold winds can never freeze, nor thunder sour The cup of cheer that Beauty draws for me Out of those Azure heavens and this green earth I drink and drink, and thirst the more I see. To see the dewdrops thrill the blades of grass, Makes my whole body shake; for here’s my choice Of […]...
- Oh! Snatched Away In Beauty's Bloom Oh! snatched away in beauty’s bloom, On thee shall press no ponderous tomb; But on thy turf shall roses rear Their leaves, the earliest of the year; And the wild cypress wave in tender gloom: And oft by yon blue gushing stream Shall Sorrow lean her drooping head, And feed deep thought with many a […]...
- A Vision of Beauty WHERE we sat at dawn together, while the star-rich heavens shifted, We were weaving dreams in silence, suddenly the veil was lifted. By a hand of fire awakened, in a moment caught and led Upward to the heaven of heavens-through the star-mists overhead Flare and flaunt the monstrous highlands; on the sapphire coast of night […]...
- She died this was the way she died She died this was the way she died. And when her breath was done Took up her simple wardrobe And started for the sun. Her little figure at the gate The Angels must have spied, Since I could never find her Upon the mortal side....
- 'Twas just this time, last year, I died ‘Twas just this time, last year, I died. I know I heard the Corn, When I was carried by the Farms It had the Tassels on I thought how yellow it would look When Richard went to mill And then, I wanted to get out, But something held my will. I thought just how Red […]...
- For Harry (My College Room-mate who Died) He cut his hand and it bled, the flesh Inside was red and the hurt discounted the flood Of red and vibrant blood that pulsed From the wound. But he was a warrior, A son whose mien would not countenance the pain And he bound the wound in strips of flax And stalked from the […]...
- The Girt Woak Tree The girt woak tree that’s in the dell! There’s noo tree I do love so well; Vor times an’ times when I wer young I there’ve a-climb’d, an’ there’ve a-zwung, An’ pick’d the eacorns green, a-shed In wrestlen storms from his broad head, An’ down below’s the cloty brook Where I did vish with line […]...
- Beauty XXV And a poet said, “Speak to us of Beauty.” Where shall you seek beauty, and how shall you find her unless she herself be your way and your guide? And how shall you speak of her except she be the weaver of your speech? The aggrieved and the injured say, “Beauty is kind and gentle. […]...
- O Beauty, Passing Beauty! O beauty, passing beauty! Sweetest sweet! How can thou let me waste my youth in sighs? I only ask to sit beside thy feet. Thou knowest I dare not look into thine eyes. Might I but kiss thy hand! I dare not fold My arms about thee scarcely dare to speak. And nothing seems to […]...
- A Thing of Beauty (Endymion) A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: Its lovliness increases; it will never Pass into nothingness; but still will keep A bower quiet for us, and a sleep Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing. Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing A flowery band to bind us to the earth, […]...
- The Young British Soldier When the ‘arf-made recruity goes out to the East ‘E acts like a babe an’ ‘e drinks like a beast, An’ ‘e wonders because ‘e is frequent deceased Ere ‘e’s fit for to serve as a soldier. Serve, serve, serve as a soldier, Serve, serve, serve as a soldier, Serve, serve, serve as a soldier, […]...
- To a Canadian Aviator Who Died for his Country in France Tossed like a falcon from the hunter’s wrist, A sweeping plunge, a sudden shattering noise, And thou hast dared, with a long spiral twist, The elastic stairway to the rising sun. Peril below thee and above, peril Within thy car; but peril cannot daunt Thy peerless heart: gathering wing and poise, Thy plane transfigured, and […]...
- Young Fellow My Lad “Where are you going, Young Fellow My Lad, On this glittering morn of May?” “I’m going to join the Colours, Dad; They’re looking for men, they say.” “But you’re only a boy, Young Fellow My Lad; You aren’t obliged to go.” “I’m seventeen and a quarter, Dad, And ever so strong, you know.” * * […]...
- Beauty and Beauty When Beauty and Beauty meet All naked, fair to fair, The earth is crying-sweet, And scattering-bright the air, Eddying, dizzying, closing round, With soft and drunken laughter; Veiling all that may befall After after Where Beauty and Beauty met, Earth’s still a-tremble there, And winds are scented yet, And memory-soft the air, Bosoming, folding glints […]...
- I heard a Fly buzz when I died I heard a Fly buzz when I died The Stillness in the Room Was like the Stillness in the Air Between the Heaves of Storm The Eyes around had wrung them dry And Breaths were gathering firm For that last Onset when the King Be witnessed in the Room I willed my Keepsakes Signed away […]...
- 207. Song-I'm O'er Young to Marry yet Chorus.-I’m o’er young, I’m o’er young, I’m o’er young to marry yet; I’m o’er young, ‘twad be a sin To tak me frae my mammy yet. I AM my mammny’s ae bairn, Wi’ unco folk I weary, sir; And lying in a man’s bed, I’m fley’d it mak me eerie, sir. I’m o’er young, &c. […]...
- Beauty I HAVE seen dawn and sunset on moors and windy hills Coming in solemn beauty like slow old tunes of Spain: I have seen the lady April bringing the daffodils, Bringing the springing grass and the soft warm April rain. I have heard the song of the blossoms and the old chant of the sea, […]...
- The Wife a-Lost Since I noo mwore do zee your feace, Up steairs or down below, I’ll zit me in the lwonesome pleace, Where flat-bough’d beech do grow; Below the beeches’ bough, my love, Where you did never come, An’ I don’t look to meet ye now, As I do look at hwome. Since you noo mwore be […]...
- A Hymn In Honour Of Beauty Ah whither, Love, wilt thou now carry me? What wontless fury dost thou now inspire Into my feeble breast, too full of thee? Whilst seeking to aslake thy raging fire, Thou in me kindlest much more great desire, And up aloft above my strength dost raise The wondrous matter of my fire to praise. That […]...
- A Dog Has Died My dog has died. I buried him in the garden Next to a rusted old machine. Some day I’ll join him right there, But now he’s gone with his shaggy coat, His bad manners and his cold nose, And I, the materialist, who never believed In any promised heaven in the sky For any human […]...
- Not all die early, dying young Not all die early, dying young Maturity of Fate Is consummated equally In Ages, or a Night A Hoary Boy, I’ve known to drop Whole statured by the side Of Junior of Fourscore ’twas Act Not Period that died....
- BEAUTY I AM as lovely as a dream in stone, And this my heart where each finds death in turn, Inspires the poet with a love as lone As clay eternal and as taciturn. Swan-white of heart, a sphinx no mortal knows, My throne is in the heaven’s azure deep; I hate all movements that disturb […]...
- The Owl Describing her Young Ones Why was that baleful Creature made, Which seeks our Quiet to invade, And screams ill Omens through the Shade? ‘Twas, sure, for every Mortals good, When, by wrong painting of her Brood, She doom’d them for the Eagle’s Food: Who proffer’d Safety to her Tribe, Wou’d she but shew them or describe, And serving him, […]...
- 400. Song-Lovely young Jessie TRUE hearted was he, the sad swain o’ the Yarrow, And fair are the maids on the banks of the Ayr; But by the sweet side o’ the Nith’s winding river, Are lovers as faithful, and maidens as fair: To equal young JESSIE seek Scotland all over; To equal young JESSIE you seek it in […]...
- Here Died There’s many a schoolboy’s bat and ball that are gathering dust at home, For he hears a voice in the future call, and he trains for the war to come; A serious light in his eyes is seen as he comes from the schoolhouse gate; He keeps his kit and his rifle clean, and he […]...
- Before the Throne of Beauty XXVI One heavy day I ran away from the grim face of society and the dizzying clamor of the city and directed my weary step to the spacious alley. I pursued the beckoning course of the rivulet and the musical sounds of the birds until I reached a lonely spot where the flowing branches of the […]...
- She died at play She died at play, Gambolled away Her lease of spotted hours, Then sank as gaily as a Turn Upon a Couch of flowers. Her ghost strolled softly o’er the hill Yesterday, and Today, Her vestments as the silver fleece Her countenance as spray....
- Extemporary Counsel given to a Young Gallant in a Frolick AS you are Young, if you’l be also Wise, Danger with Honour court, Quarrels despise; Believe you then are truly Brave and Bold, To Beauty when no Slave, and less to Gold; When Vertue you dare own, not think it odd, Or ungenteel to say, I fear a God....
- Midsummer, was it, when They died Midsummer, was it, when They died A full, and perfect time The Summer closed upon itself In Consummated Bloom The Corn, her furthest kernel filled Before the coming Flail When These leaned unto Perfectness Through Haze of Burial...
- Divinely Superfluous Beauty The storm-dances of gulls, the barking game of seals, Over and under the ocean… Divinely superfluous beauty Rules the games, presides over destinies, makes trees grow And hills tower, waves fall. The incredible beauty of joy Stars with fire the joining of lips, O let our loves too Be joined, there is not a maiden […]...
- How Gilbert Died There’s never a stone at the sleeper’s head, There’s never a fence beside, And the wandering stock on the grave may tread Unnoticed and undenied; But the smallest child on the Watershed Can tell you how Gilbert died. For he rode at dusk with his comrade Dunn To the hut at the Stockman’s Ford; In […]...
- To the Memory of Mrs. Lefroy who died Dec:r 16 my Birthday The day returns again, my natal day; What mix’d emotions with the Thought arise! Beloved friend, four years have pass’d away Since thou wert snatch’d forever from our eyes. The day, commemorative of my birth Bestowing Life and Light and Hope on me, Brings back the hour which was thy last on Earth. Oh! bitter […]...
- On a young Lady Whose LORD was Travelling NO sooner I pronounced Celindas name, But Troops of wing’d Pow’rs did chant the fame: Not those the Poets Bows and Arrows lend, But such as on the Altar do attend. Celinda nam’d, Flow’rs spring up from the Ground, Excited meerly with the Charming Sound. Celinda, the Courts Glory, and its fear, The gaz’d at […]...
- Died of Wounds His wet white face and miserable eyes Brought nurses to him more than groans and sighs: But hoarse and low and rapid rose and fell His troubled voice: he did the business well. The ward grew dark; but he was still complaining And calling out for ‘Dickie’. ‘Curse the Wood! ‘It’s time to go. O […]...
- The Living Beauty I bade, because the wick and oil are spent And frozen are the channels of the blood, My discontented heart to draw content From beauty that is cast out of a mould In bronze, or that in dazzling marble appears, Appears, but when wc have gone is gone again, Being more indifferent to our solitude […]...
- A Man Young And Old: I. First Love Though nurtured like the sailing moon In beauty’s murderous brood, She walked awhile and blushed awhile And on my pathway stood Until I thought her body bore A heart of flesh and blood. But since I laid a hand thereon And found a heart of stone I have attempted many things And not a thing […]...
- Yeats Died Saturday In France Yeats died Saturday in France. Freedom from his animal Has come at last in alien Nice, His heart beat separate from his will: He knows at last the old abyss Which always faced his staring face. No ability, no dignity Can fail him now who trained so long For the outrage of eternity, Teaching his […]...