William Bell Scott

(1811-1890 / Scotland)

William Bell Scott Poems

41. St. Columbia 4/22/2010
42. Stratford 4/22/2010
43. Teliessin 4/22/2010
44. The Apple 4/22/2010
45. The Apple Tree 4/22/2010
46. The Auto Da Fe 4/22/2010
47. The Candidate 4/22/2010
48. The Emperor Julian On German Drink 4/22/2010
49. The Falling Leaf 4/22/2010
50. Mare Serenitatis 4/22/2010
51. Memory 4/22/2010
52. Merry England 4/22/2010
53. Morality 4/22/2010
54. Morning 4/22/2010
55. Music 4/22/2010
56. Nature 4/22/2010
57. Of Me 4/22/2010
58. On Reading Mr. Theodore Watt’s Sonnet, ‘the Sonnet’s Voice’ 4/22/2010
59. Orpheus 4/22/2010
60. Paracelsus 4/22/2010
61. Phemie Blayne 4/22/2010
62. Prologue 4/22/2010
63. Rabelais 4/22/2010
64. The Further Shore 4/22/2010
65. The Garden Bower 4/22/2010
66. The Kesselstadt Mask 4/22/2010
67. The Sickle 4/22/2010
68. The Sea 4/22/2010
69. The Sphynx 4/22/2010
70. The Sun-Dial 4/22/2010
71. The Tide 4/22/2010
72. The Two Sides 4/22/2010
73. Thorolf And Gudrun 4/22/2010
74. To The Dead 4/22/2010
75. Voices Of Sunset Clouds 4/22/2010
76. The Poet 4/22/2010
77. The Poet’s Book 4/22/2010
78. The Poet’s Opportunity 4/22/2010
79. The Robin 4/22/2010
80. The Nymph Of Arcadie 4/22/2010

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Best Poem of William Bell Scott

Art For Art’s Sake

‘Art for art's sake,’—very well,
Your picture you don't care to sell?
Yes, yes, I do, and thus I try
To paint so bright they want to buy—
‘Art for art's sake,’—then I fear
You want no sympathetic tear
From the stalls and boxes here?
Yes, yes, I do, I write it so,
A hundred nights the crowds shall go—
‘Art for art's sake,’—Heavens! once more,
You'd say again things said before?
And pray, why not? I wish I could
Stand as Shakespeare, Fletcher, stood—
Nay, dear aspirant, rather write
As Shakespeare were he here to-night;
That would be far more worth ...

Read the full of Art For Art’s Sake

A Ghost

In the first watch of the night,
One candle all my light,
I saw a Spirit near the door
Standing raised above the floor,
In the air he was, yet standing,
Feet placed flat as on some landing;
So I turned my elbowed chair.
He stood still there,—
Like tarnished silver, dark yet bright,

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