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On the beach at night,
Stands a child with her father,
Watching the east, the autumn sky.
Up read more
On the beach at night,
Stands a child with her father,
Watching the east, the autumn sky.
Up through the darkness,
While ravening clouds, the burial clouds, in black masses spreading,
Lower sullen and fast athwart and down the sky,
Amid a transparent clear belt of ether yet left in the east,
Ascends large and calm the lord-star Jupiter,
And nigh at hand, only a very little above,
Swim the delicate sisters the Pleiades.
From the beach the child holding the hand of her father,
Those burial-clouds that lower victorious soon to devour all,
Watching, silently weeps.
Weep not, child,
Weep not, my darling,
With these kisses let me remove your tears,
The ravening clouds shall not long be victorious,
They shall not long possess the sky, they devour the stars only in apparition,
Jupiter shall emerge, be patient, watch again another night,
the Pleiades shall emerge,
They are immortal, all those stars both silvery and golden shall shine out again,
The great stars and the little ones shall shine out again, they endure,
The vast immortal suns and the long-enduring pensive moons shall again shine.
Then dearest child mournest thou only for jupiter?
Considerest thou alone the burial of the stars?
Something there is, (With my lips soothing thee, adding I whisper,
I give thee the first suggestion, the problem and indirection,)
Something there is more immortal even than the stars,
(Many the burials, many the days and nights, passing away,)
Something that shall endure longer even than lustrous Jupiter
Longer than sun or any revolving satellite,
Or the radiant sisters the Pleiades.
As long as I love beauty I am young.
As long as I love beauty I am young.
The beauty seems right
By force of beauty, and the feeble wrong
Because of weakness.
The beauty seems right
By force of beauty, and the feeble wrong
Because of weakness.
Who doth not feel, until his failing sight
Faints into dimness with its own delight,
His changing read more
Who doth not feel, until his failing sight
Faints into dimness with its own delight,
His changing cheek, his sinking heart confess,
The might--the majesty of Loveliness?
The ladies of St. James's!
They're painted to the eyes;
Their white is stays for ever,
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The ladies of St. James's!
They're painted to the eyes;
Their white is stays for ever,
Their red it never dies;
But Phyllida, my Phillida!
Her colour comes and goes;
It trembles to a lily,--
It wavers to a rose.
By plucking her petals, you do not gather the beauty of the flower.
By plucking her petals, you do not gather the beauty of the flower.
Beauty is ten, nine of which is dressing.
Beauty is ten, nine of which is dressing.
Her gentle limbs did she undress,
And lay down in her loveliness.
Her gentle limbs did she undress,
And lay down in her loveliness.
Practice random beauty and senseless acts of love.
Practice random beauty and senseless acts of love.
