The Thief of Beauty
The mind is Beauty's thief, the poet takes
The golden spendthrift's trail among the blooms
Where she stands tossing silver in the lakes,
And twisting bright swift threads on airy looms.
Her ring the poppy snatches, and the rose
With laughter plunders all her gusty plumes.
The poet gleans and gathers as she goes
Heedless of summer's end certain and soon,
Of winter rattling at the door of June.
When Beauty lies hand-folded, pale and still,
Forsaken of her lovers and her lords,
And winter keeps cold watch upon the hill,
Then he lets fall his bale of coloured words.
At frosty midnight June shall rise in flame,
Move at his magic with her bells and birds,
The rose will redden as he speaks her name.
He shall release earth's frozen bosom there,
And with great words shall cuff the whining air.
Muriel Stuart's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (The Thief of Beauty by Muriel Stuart )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
A Dream Within A Dream
Edgar Allan Poe
- Washed Farther Downstream, mary douglas
- Love lasts forever, Tiku akp
- The Book Town, David Harris
- THEIR HAPPINESS IS OURS AND OURS IS THEI.., MOHAMMAD SKATI
- aaz rawiwar hai, Upendra Singh
- Life As A Feather, Richard Provencher
- The Brocades Spilling Out From Your Baza.., mary douglas
- In A Sugared Quiet Lit By Multicoloured .., mary douglas
- Go on freely, gajanan mishra
- Mirror image, Mario,Lucien,Rene Odekerken