My heart that was rapt away by the wild cherry blossoms -- will it return to my body when they read more

My heart that was rapt away by the wild cherry blossoms -- will it return to my body when they scatter?

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.

In every man's heart there is a secret nerve that answers to the vibrations of beauty.

In every man's heart there is a secret nerve that answers to the vibrations of beauty.

It is better to be beautiful than to be good, but it is better to be good than to be read more

It is better to be beautiful than to be good, but it is better to be good than to be ugly.

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

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

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

And behold there was a very stately palace before him, the name
of which was Beautiful.

And behold there was a very stately palace before him, the name
of which was Beautiful.

Beauty is how you feel inside, and it reflects in your eyes. It is not something physical.

Beauty is how you feel inside, and it reflects in your eyes. It is not something physical.

Beauty is not caused. It is.

Beauty is not caused. It is.