Lines from Endymion
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loviliness 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,
Spite of despondance, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o`er-darkened ways
Made for our searching: yes, inspite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits.
poem by John Keats
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Related quotes
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,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkn'd ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
'Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven's brink.
poem by John Keats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Endymion (excerpts)
From BOOK I
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness 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,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkened ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
'Gainst the hot season; the mid forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
All lovely tales that we have heard or read:
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven's brink.
Nor do we merely feel these essences
For one short hour; no, even as the trees
That whisper round a temple become soon
Dear as the temple's self, so does the moon,
The passion poesy, glories infinite,
Haunt us till they become a cheering light
Unto our souls, and bound to us so fast,
That, whether there be shine, or gloom o'ercast;
They always must be with us, or we die.
Therefore, 'tis with full happiness that I
Will trace the story of Endymion.
The very music of the name has gone
Into my being, and each pleasant scene
Is growing fresh before me as the green
Of our own valleys: so I will begin
Now while I cannot hear the city's din;
Now while the early budders are just new,
And run in mazes of the youngest hue
About old forests; while the willow trails
Its delicate amber; and the dairy pails
Bring home increase of milk. And, as the year
Grows lush in juicy stalks, I'll smoothly steer
My little boat, for many quiet hours,
With streams that deepen freshly into bowers.
Many and many a verse I hope to write,
Before the daisies, vermeil rimm'd and white,
Hide in deep herbage; and ere yet the bees
Hum about globes of clover and sweet peas,
I must be near the middle of my story.
O may no wintry season, bare and hoary,
See it half finish'd: but let Autumn bold,
With universal tinge of sober gold,
Be all about me when I make an end.
And now, at once adventuresome, I send
My herald thought into a wilderness:
There let its trumpet blow, and quickly dress
My uncertain path with green, that I may speed
Easily onward, thorough flowers and weed.
...
poem by John Keats
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Endymion: A Poetic Romance (Excerpt)
BOOK I
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness 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,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkened ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
'Gainst the hot season; the mid forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
All lovely tales that we have heard or read:
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven's brink.
Nor do we merely feel these essences
For one short hour; no, even as the trees
That whisper round a temple become soon
Dear as the temple's self, so does the moon,
The passion poesy, glories infinite,
Haunt us till they become a cheering light
Unto our souls, and bound to us so fast,
That, whether there be shine, or gloom o'ercast;
They always must be with us, or we die.
Therefore, 'tis with full happiness that I
Will trace the story of Endymion.
The very music of the name has gone
Into my being, and each pleasant scene
Is growing fresh before me as the green
Of our own valleys: so I will begin
Now while I cannot hear the city's din;
Now while the early budders are just new,
And run in mazes of the youngest hue
About old forests; while the willow trails
Its delicate amber; and the dairy pails
Bring home increase of milk. And, as the year
Grows lush in juicy stalks, I'll smoothly steer
My little boat, for many quiet hours,
With streams that deepen freshly into bowers.
Many and many a verse I hope to write,
Before the daisies, vermeil rimm'd and white,
Hide in deep herbage; and ere yet the bees
Hum about globes of clover and sweet peas,
I must be near the middle of my story.
O may no wintry season, bare and hoary,
See it half finish'd: but let Autumn bold,
With universal tinge of sober gold,
Be all about me when I make an end.
And now, at once adventuresome, I send
My herald thought into a wilderness:
There let its trumpet blow, and quickly dress
My uncertain path with green, that I may speed
Easily onward, thorough flowers and weed....
poem by John Keats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Untouched by Grace, but not by Snow
Waking up, noticing the ground
To my surprise I am surround by snow
Every detail in which was lay
With perfect precise wonder
In this most daring betray of beauty
And all is quiet
All is so annoyingly quiet
The dirt that is covered peeks through the ground
Destroying what was once beauty
That was pronounced by the glistened snow
And all I can do is wonder
How this world become simple to lay
When sleep takes us on we lay
And all is deeply quiet
Our dreams become our wonder
Weather we stand on solid ground
An undefined map layer out by snow
Creates to us sleeping beauty
But what is this beauty?
And where does it lay?
What is understood to be a lie as white as snow
And all has become a false quiet
Life, which puts our burdens to the ground
And here we are left to wonder
To whom to we place our wonder
The one who holds onto your beauty?
Who picks you up off the ground
And will be contempt as you lay
This is the lovely quiet
Dawn, of our love as pure as snow
To ask what is this snow
Pure, grace, love to which we wonder
Making this moment freeze in quiet
Holding unto this betrayed beauty
Which pours unto us as we lay
To the emissive ground
To become as pure as snow is beauty
But do we wonder under stars we lay?
And all was quiet as the snow flake touched ground
A thing of beauty is a joy forever: its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness.
quote by John Keats
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To My Son
Here you are
My little one
Full of happiness and dreams
You're my precious son
You're growing up so quick
So full of life and great joy
No longer my little baby
But a happy little boy
Some nights I sit
And watch while you sleep.
You don't know that I'm there
I make not even a peep
But all of a sudden
You start to stir
Did I make a wrong move?
I don't know, I'm not sure
Then you stop
All is quiet again
I start to think
Right there, right then
Where would I be
If you were not here
I feel tears on my face
It's my biggest fear
I look over at you
You're back sound asleep
You are the one thing in my life
That makes my life so complete
Now you're peaceful and quiet
Sweet dreams and sleep tight
I'll see you again soon
At mornings first light
poem by Shauna Smith
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The Charm
In darkness the loud sea makes moan;
And earth is shaken, and all evils creep
About her ways.
Oh, now to know you sleep!
Out of the whirling blinding moil, alone,
Out of the slow grim fight,
One thought to wing - to you, asleep,
In some cool room that's open to the night
Lying half-forward, breathing quietly,
One white hand on the white
Unrumpled sheet, and the ever-moving hair
Quiet and still at length! . . .
Your magic and your beauty and your strength,
Like hills at noon or sunlight on a tree,
Sleeping prevail in earth and air.
In the sweet gloom above the brown and white
Night benedictions hover; and the winds of night
Move gently round the room, and watch you there.
And through the dreadful hours
The trees and waters and the hills have kept
The sacred vigil while you slept,
And lay a way of dew and flowers
Where your feet, your morning feet, shall tread.
And still the darkness ebbs about your bed.
Quiet, and strange, and loving-kind, you sleep.
And holy joy about the earth is shed;
And holiness upon the deep.
poem by Rupert Brooke (1909)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Charm, The
In darkness the loud sea makes moan;
And earth is shaken, and all evils creep
About her ways.
Oh, now to know you sleep!
Out of the whirling blinding moil, alone,
Out of the slow grim fight,
One thought to wing -- to you, asleep,
In some cool room that's open to the night
Lying half-forward, breathing quietly,
One white hand on the white
Unrumpled sheet, and the ever-moving hair
Quiet and still at length! . . .
Your magic and your beauty and your strength,
Like hills at noon or sunlight on a tree,
Sleeping prevail in earth and air.
In the sweet gloom above the brown and white
Night benedictions hover; and the winds of night
Move gently round the room, and watch you there.
And through the dreadful hours
The trees and waters and the hills have kept
The sacred vigil while you slept,
And lay a way of dew and flowers
Where your feet, your morning feet, shall tread.
And still the darkness ebbs about your bed.
Quiet, and strange, and loving-kind, you sleep.
And holy joy about the earth is shed;
And holiness upon the deep.
poem by Rupert Brooke
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What is beauty
beauty they say
is being fair of face
beauty is unexplainable
its everywhere, at everyplace
theres beauty in a mothers eyes
and beauty in a babys face
beauty in a soaring tree
and beauty in a
deserted place
beauty in knobbly hands,
that are weathered due to toil and pace
beauty in natures creations
beauty in His kindness and grace
beauty in the joy of parenthood
beauty in the love of friends
beauty too in adversities
and the angels of mercy he also sends
so much beauty, so much joy
all around if we care to see
this world is full of wondrous things
not apparent to you and me
stop to savour reflect awhile
there is beauty all around
things that happen, prayers anwered
His beauty leaves you spellbound
poem by Arti Chopra
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Your Flowers
Your flowers are sounding like snow,
Their bells chime like the wind,
With this noise is advertised a beauty and kindness
To man the society of friends.
A fellowship of all health can cry out,
The customary feelings shall be felt;
There is a creek in the blindness,
Declaring spirits of joy as well.
My flowers stay still, staying this way is clear,
For we keep quiet, like the sun, careless
In our actions, until the wind moves our hearts
On the occasion, when we are broken.
poem by Naveed Akram
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A Rose
A single rose in yonder ruined bed
Makes beauty where all beauty else had fled;
Like love, which, careless or of time or death,
About earth's shattered hopes its tendrils wreathing,
Blooms in the wilderness, divinely breathing,
Till all around grows fragrant with its breath.
poem by Florence Earle Coates from Poems (1898)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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My Search For Beauty
I went in search of beauty
and with feeling looked around,
I noticed much in my path
where beauty could be found.
It went above human appearance
and feelings that run deep,
it wasn't just in my dreams
when I got my beauty sleep.
The beauty was felt inside
in a divine and blessed way,
it was in the growing flowers
and the nice things that we say.
I found beauty in the sunshine
and in the clouds up high,
the rain that fell upon the earth
and the lightning in the sky.
It twinkled in the stars at night
and the moon at every phase,
righteousness and gratitude
showed beauty in other ways.
It appeared in the shadows
and the kindness that we share,
I found that beauty was hiding
and some didn't see it there.
Beauty is in good memories
and times spent with a friend,
there are signs of beauty
in the messages we send.
Beauty is seen differently
for some it's in disguise,
but we cannot see true beauty
through another person's eyes.
poem by Shelley Williams
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The One And Only Immortal
Those who do love Nature are blessed indeed
For all of her friends our Earth Mother does need
The one every life form on Planet Earth does feed
Has been made to suffer due to human greed
The greedy for financial gain her beauty try to destroy
A beauty that is meant for all to enjoy
For their crimes humanity may have to pay
That does seem a sad thing for to have to say
The beauty of Nature is an amazing thing
And her praises one ought to feel happy to sing
The one who will be here long after to nothingness we've gone
The only immortal will be living on
And we who abuse her for our financial greed
Are not very clever and self destructive indeed.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Beauty, Beauty
Beauty, beauty in the light. Beauty, Beauty falling through. How sweet must beauty, beauty be. Beauty, beauty how it's happy. Beauty, beauty in the sky and in the grass. Beauty, beauty in the trees. Beauty, beauty on the ground. Beauty, beauty crawling on the ground. Beauty, beauty always climbing. Beauty, beauty that we are sirrounded by.
poem by Shania K. Younce
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I've Been In Love With Nature
I've been in love with Nature ever since I was a boy
And a walk in Nature's quiet places is always a thing of joy
In woods and Land for Wildlife the wild birds chirp and sing
And the beauty that lives in Nature is an amazing thing
For our sins against Mother Nature we will be made to pay
The smog above the City is growing by the day
The rivers are polluted and pollution nowadays is rife
And an unhealthy environment a danger to human life
As well as every other life form unhealthy air, rivers and seas
Can cause terminal illness and give rise to disease
We will receive from Nature what only is our due
And what we do to her to ourselves we do so happens to be true
The average weather temperatures are rising by a couple of degrees
And sea levels are rising and pollution in the breeze.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Season's of the Soul
Quiet is the autumn sun
Purified in God's own light
This day star of divinity
As it fades into the peaceful night
Valerian dreams they hang in the sky
Like timber wolves tracks in the snow
Winter looms near after autumns last song
And the geese fly south, as they know
Now is the time when the bud doth decline
And the leaves they do carpet the ground
No sooner than this with the suns perfect kiss
Soon spring will be right back around.
As this tide of life is turning
God's sweet grace is soon imparted
Natures message to awaken
But only for the open hearted
Thus are the seasons of our soul
From the moment of our birth
Life a blessed thing of beauty
This joyful passage here on earth
poem by Lynne FincherSpringarden
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Soft As The First Light Of The Beauty Of The Day
Soft as the first light of the beauty of the day
Your voice calls me from sleep
And I hear in our whispers
The love of all quiet times and dreams
The happiness of happy youth and kind laughter
Love in the beauty of all its being
Touching as the joy we give each other.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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As Sweet As Honey
Come to the land of beauty to taste my love,
For there is a special creamy milk set for you to taste;
Come to the land of love to taste the true meaning of my love,
For there you will meet the beautiful young ladies!
And the handsome men are there to cheer you up.
This is like a folklore story of love and,
You will love to stay the night in your nakedness;
For te land is full of sweet aroma of words,
And my love is as sweet as honey.
You will be infused with the rivers along the line and,
You will hear the music of love being played daily;
For your health will be taken care with my love.
You will visit me again and again after your first experience,
For the sweet taste of love is the thing that you need;
And i am the example of the things that moves your love.
There is a dramatic act of love out here and,
You will like to run naked in the dark as well;
And you will live on to love me,
For i am as sweet as honey and your dreams will come true!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Quiet in the Fire
Quiet in the Fire
Tender are the grey skies among these walls
As they blush before me, waiting for her sweet return
I pray for rain, I pray that we may share a cup of coffee
I watch her sleep most nights, and listen to her dreams
My love for her grows and grows, yet it's buried deep
I watch my tongue glaze over with ice as I look into her eyes
I am quiet in the fire, I am full of desire, I am quiet in the fire.
poem by Matthew Puttroff
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My Idea of beauty
Beauty is the sensation of your heart skipping a beat,
when eyes full of mischief glance at you...
Beauty is the smile which appears on your lips, when you think of the way he smiles at you...
Beauty is in the heart which touches another
Beauty is tender hands holding each other
Beauty is strong arms holding you warm
Beauty is in water, beauty is in weather,
beauty is in air, beauty is in life
Beauty is in love, beauty is in wind...
Beauty surrounds you days and nights
yet no one knows beauty's heights...
poem by Nitya Pillai
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