Beauty is in the eye of the beer holder

Beauty is in the eye of the beer holder

Beauty is mysterious as well as terrible. God and devil are fighting there, and the battlefield is the heart of read more

Beauty is mysterious as well as terrible. God and devil are fighting there, and the battlefield is the heart of man.

She is not fair to outward view
As many maidens be;
Her loveliness I never knew
read more

She is not fair to outward view
As many maidens be;
Her loveliness I never knew
Until she smiled on me:
Oh! then I saw her eye was bright,
A well of love, a spring of light.

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?

Old as I am, for ladies' love unfit,
The power of beauty I remember yet,
Which once read more

Old as I am, for ladies' love unfit,
The power of beauty I remember yet,
Which once inflam'd my soul, and still inspires my wit.

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.

Love of beauty is Taste. The creation of beauty is Art.

Love of beauty is Taste. The creation of beauty is Art.

Beauty and folly are old companions.

Beauty and folly are old companions.

Love is much like a wild rose, beautiful and calm, but willing to draw blood in its defense.

Love is much like a wild rose, beautiful and calm, but willing to draw blood in its defense.