All kinds of beauty do not inspire love; there is a kind which
only pleases the sight, but does read more

All kinds of beauty do not inspire love; there is a kind which
only pleases the sight, but does not captivate the affections.
[Sp., No todas hermosuras enamoran, que algunas alegran la vista,
y no rinden la voluntad.]

I have read in Plato and Cicero sayings that are wise and very beautiful; but I have never read in read more

I have read in Plato and Cicero sayings that are wise and very beautiful; but I have never read in either of them: Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden.

On the beach at night,
Stands a child with her father,
Watching the east, the autumn sky.
Up read more

On the beach at night,
Stands a child with her father,
Watching the east, the autumn sky.
Up through the darkness,
While ravening clouds, the burial clouds, in black masses spreading,
Lower sullen and fast athwart and down the sky,
Amid a transparent clear belt of ether yet left in the east,
Ascends large and calm the lord-star Jupiter,
And nigh at hand, only a very little above,
Swim the delicate sisters the Pleiades.
From the beach the child holding the hand of her father,
Those burial-clouds that lower victorious soon to devour all,
Watching, silently weeps.
Weep not, child,
Weep not, my darling,
With these kisses let me remove your tears,
The ravening clouds shall not long be victorious,
They shall not long possess the sky, they devour the stars only in apparition,
Jupiter shall emerge, be patient, watch again another night,
the Pleiades shall emerge,
They are immortal, all those stars both silvery and golden shall shine out again,
The great stars and the little ones shall shine out again, they endure,
The vast immortal suns and the long-enduring pensive moons shall again shine.
Then dearest child mournest thou only for jupiter?
Considerest thou alone the burial of the stars?
Something there is, (With my lips soothing thee, adding I whisper,
I give thee the first suggestion, the problem and indirection,)
Something there is more immortal even than the stars,
(Many the burials, many the days and nights, passing away,)
Something that shall endure longer even than lustrous Jupiter
Longer than sun or any revolving satellite,
Or the radiant sisters the Pleiades.

Everything has its beauty, but not everyone sees it

Everything has its beauty, but not everyone sees it

Truth exists for the wise, beauty for the feeling heart.

Truth exists for the wise, beauty for the feeling heart.

Beauty soon grows familiar to the lover,
Fades in his eye, and palls upon the sense.

Beauty soon grows familiar to the lover,
Fades in his eye, and palls upon the sense.

The essence of all beauty, I call love,
The attribute, the evidence, and end,
The consummation to read more

The essence of all beauty, I call love,
The attribute, the evidence, and end,
The consummation to the inward sense
Of beauty apprehended from without,
I still call love.

Beauty is whatever gives joy.

Beauty is whatever gives joy.

A lovely being, scarcely formed or moulded,
A rose with all its sweetest leaves yet folded.

A lovely being, scarcely formed or moulded,
A rose with all its sweetest leaves yet folded.