(6 August 1809 – 6 October 1892 / Lincoln / England)

Beauty

Oh, Beauty, passing beauty! sweetest Sweet!
How canst thou let me waste my youth in sighs;
I only ask to sit beside thy feet.
Thou knowest I dare not look into thine eyes,
Might I but kiss thy hand! I dare not fold
My arms about thee—scarcely dare to speak.
And nothing seems to me so wild and bold,
As with one kiss to touch thy blessèd cheek.
Methinks if I should kiss thee, no control
Within the thrilling brain could keep afloat
The subtle spirit. Even while I spoke,
The bare word KISS hath made my inner soul
To tremble like a lutestring, ere the note
Hath melted in the silence that it broke.

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 13 votes ) 29

Comments (29)

Tennyson uses old-fashioned English-'thee', 'canst thou'- in parts, but the poem has a modern tone. 'Beauty' sounds like a beautiful woman, or it could be any form of beauty. Well worth reading.
This is Truly a masterpiece Nicely Penned
This classical poem never fails to mesmerize readers. The outpouring love and compassion flows with ease from deep within into my veins. Truly captivating!
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