Quotes About Beauty

Higher still and higher From the earth thou springest Like a cloud of fire; The blue deep thou wingest, And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.

And beautiful, and there the sea I found Calm as a cradled child in dreamless slumber bound.

Hail to thee, blithe spirit! Bird thou never wert.

A poem is the very image of life expressed in its eternal truth. There

Calm as a slumbering babe, Tremendous Ocean lay. The mirror of its stillness showed The pale and waning stars

Poetry thus makes immortal all that is best and most beautiful in the world

Swift stars with flashing tresses

let deeds, not words, express Thine exceeding loveliness.

I could not choose but gaze; a fascination Dwelt in that moon, and sky, and clouds

O Spirit! fearlessly bear on. Though storms may break the primrose on its stalk, Though frosts may blight the freshness of its bloom, Yet spring's awakening breath will woo the earth To feed with kindliest dews its favorite flower, That blooms in mossy bank and darksome glens, Lighting the greenwood with its sunny smile.

Then she arose, and smiled on me with eyes Serene yet sorrowing

Like an infant's smile, over the dead A light of laughing flowers along the grass is spread. - Adonais

Whence are we, and why are we? of what scene The actors or spectators? Great and mean Meet massed in death, who lends what life must borrow. As long as skies are blue and fields are green, Evening must usher night, night urge the morrow, Month follow month with woe, and year wake year to sorrow. - Adonais

I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under, And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder.

As flowers beneath May's footstep waken, As stars from Night's loose hair are shaken, As waves arise when loud winds call, Thoughts sprung where'er that step did fall.

Soft as an Incarnation of the Sun, When light is changed to love, this glorious One Floated into the cavern where I lay, And called my Spirit, and the dreaming clay Was lifted by the thing that dreamed below As smoke by fire, and in the beauty's glow I stood, and felt the dawn of my long night Was penetrating me with living light: I knew it was the Vision veiled from me So many years - that it was Emily. - Epipsychidion

He will embrace a pure system, from its abstract truth, its beauty, its simplicity, and its promise of wide-extended benefit; unless custom has turned poison into food, he will hate the brutal pleasures of the chase by instinct; it will be a contemplation full of horror and disappointment to his mind, that beings capable of the gentlest and most admirable sympathies should take delight in the death-pangs and last convulsions of dying animals.

TO THE QUEEN OF MY HEART. (Published as Shelley's by Medwin, "The Shelley Papers", 1833, and by Mrs. Shelley, "Poetical Works", 1839, 1st edition; afterwards suppressed as of doubtful authenticity.) 1. Shall we roam, my love, To the twilight grove, When the moon is rising bright; Oh, I'll whisper there, In the cool night-air, 5 What I dare not in broad daylight!

Our sweetest songs are those of saddest thought.

A poet is a nightingale who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.

Poetry is a mirror which makes beautiful that which is distorted

Music, When Soft Voices Die Music, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory; Odours, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken. Rose leaves, when the rose is dead, Are heap'd for the belovèd's bed; And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone, Love itself shall slumber on.

The most beautiful man in the world says everything with his eyes, and the rest with his hands and mouth.

He who wants a rose must respect the thorn.