Sonnet.

There was a beautiful spirit in her air,
    As of a fay at revel. Hidden springs,
Too delicate for knowledge, should be there,
    Moving her gently like invisible wings;
And then her lip out-blushing the red fruit
    That bursts with ripeness in the Autumn time,
And the arch eye you would not swear was mute,
    And the clear cheek, as of a purer clime,
And the low tone, soft as a pleasant flute
    Sent over water with the vesper chime;
And then her forehead with its loose, dark curl,
    And the bewildering smile that made her mouth
    Like a torn rose-leaf moistened of the South -
She has an angel's gifts - the radiant girl!

Nathaniel Parker Willis

Nathaniel Parker Willis was an American author, poet, and editor who was among the most popular literary figures of his time. He founded and edited several periodicals and wrote many poems, essays, and travelogues. Willis was known for his urbane style, which influenced the development of 19th-century American literature. Despite his widespread popularity during his lifetime, his work fell out of favor in the years following his death.

Nathaniel Parker Willis

April.

Nathaniel Parker Willis, Simple Poetry

The Annoyer

Nathaniel Parker Willis, Simple Poetry

Little Florence Gray

Nathaniel Parker Willis, Simple Poetry

City Lyrics

Nathaniel Parker Willis, Simple Poetry

English

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Sonnet.

Elegance floats about thee like a dress,
    Melting the airy motion of thy form
Into one swaying grace, and loveliness,
    Like a rich tint that makes a picture warm,
Is lurking in the chesnut of thy tress,
    Enriching it, as moonlight after storm
Mingles dark shadows into gentleness.
    A beauty that bewilders like a spell
Reigns in thine eye's clear hazel, and thy brow
    So pure in vein'd transparency doth tell
How spiritually beautiful art thou -
    A temple where angelic love might dwell.
Life in thy presence were a thing to keep,
Like a gay dreamer clinging to his sleep.

Nathaniel Parker Willis

Sonnet.

Exquisite Laura! with thy pouting lip,
    And the arch smile that makes me constant so -
Tempting me still like a dull bee to sip
    The flower I should have left so long ago -
Beautiful Laura! who art just so fair
    That I can think thee lovely when alone,
And still art not so wonderfully rare
    That I could never find a prettier one -
Spirited Laura! laughing, weeping, crying
    In the same breath, and gravest with the gay -
So wild, that Cupid ever shoots thee flying,
    And knows his archery is thrown away -
Inconstant as I am, I cannot yet
Break thy sweet fetter, exquisite coquette!

Nathaniel Parker Willis

A Portrait.

She was not very beautiful, if it be beauty's test
To match a classic model when perfectly at rest;
And she did not look bewitchingly, if witchery it be,
To have a forehead and a lip transparent as the sea.

The fashion of her gracefulness was not a follow'd rule,
And her effervescent sprightliness was never learnt at school;
And her words were all peculiar, like the fairy's who 'spoke pearls;'
And her tone was ever sweetest midst the cadences of girls.

Said I she was not beautiful? Her eyes upon your sight
Broke with the lambent purity of planetary light,
And an intellectual beauty, like a light within a vase,
Touched every line with glory of her animated face.

Her mind with sweets was laden, like a morning breath in June,
And her thoughts awoke in harmony,...

Nathaniel Parker Willis

A Portrait.

She's beautiful! Her raven curls
Have broken hearts in envious girls -
And then they sleep in contrast so,
Like raven feathers upon snow,
And bathe her neck - and shade the bright
Dark eye from which they catch the light,
As if their graceful loops were made
To keep that glorious eye in shade,
And holier make its tranquil spell,
Like waters in a shaded well.

I cannot rhyme about that eye -
I've match'd it with a midnight sky -
I've said 'twas deep, and dark, and wild,
Expressive, liquid, witching, mild -
But the jewell'd star, and the living air
Have nothing in them half so fair.

She's noble - noble - one to keep
Embalm'd for dreams of fever'd sleep -
An eye for nature - taste refin'd,
Perception swift, and ballanc'd mind, -
And...

Nathaniel Parker Willis

Discrimination.

I used to love a radiant girl -
    Her lips were like a rose leaf torn;
Her heart was as free as a floating curl,
    Or a breeze at morn;
Her step as light as a Peri's daughter,
And her eye as soft as gliding water.

Witching thoughts like things half hid
    Lurk'd beneath her silken lashes,
And a modest droop of the veined lid
    Oft hid their flashes -
But to me the charm was more complete
As the blush stole up its fringe to meet.

Paint me love as a honey bee!
    Rosy mouths are things to sip;
Nothing was ever so sweet to me
    As Marion's lip -
Till I learned that a deeper magic lies
In kissing the lids of her closed eyes.

Her sweet brow I seldom touch,
    Save to part her raven hair;
Her bright cheek I gaze on mu...

Nathaniel Parker Willis

The Tri-Portrait.

'Twas a rich night in June. The air was all
Fragrance and balm, and the wet leaves were stirred
By the soft fingers of the southern wind,
And caught the light capriciously, like wings
Haunting the greenwood with a silvery sheen.
The stars might not be numbered, and the moon
Exceeding beautiful, went up in heaven,
And took her place in silence, and a hush,
Like the deep Sabbath of the night, came down
And rested upon nature. I was out
With three sweet sisters wandering, and my thoughts
Took color of the moonlight, and of them,
And I was calm and happy. Their deep tones,
Low in the stillness, and by that soft air
Melted to reediness, bore out, like song,
The language of high feelings, and I felt
How excellent is woman when she gives
To the fine pulses of he...

Nathaniel Parker Willis