Most beautiful lines in poetry? Watch

benpringle
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#1
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#1
For me, this is my contender:

"Lay your sleeping head, my love,
Human on my faithless arm;
Time and fevers burn away
Individual beauty from
Thoughtful children, and the grave
Proves the child ephemeral:
But in my arms till break of day
Let the living creature lie,
Mortal, guilty, but to me
The entirely beautiful."
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Birkenhead
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#2
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#2
'O the mind, mind has mountains; cliffs of fall
Frightful, sheer, no-man-fathomed. Hold them cheap
May who ne'er hung there. Nor does long our small
Durance deal with that steep or deep. Here! creep,
Wretch, under a comfort serves in a whirlwind: all
Life death does end and each day dies with sleep'
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crozibear96
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#3
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#3
I eat my peas with honey
I've done it all my life
It makes my peas taste funny
But it keeps them on my knife.
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CherryWine
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#4
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#4
Love’s time’s beggar, but even a single hour,

bright as a dropped coin, makes love rich.

We find an hour together, spend it not on flowers

or wine, but the whole of the summer sky and a grass ditch.

For thousands of seconds we kiss; your hair

like treasure on the ground; the Midas light

turning your limbs to gold. Time slows, for here

we are millionaires, backhanding the night

so nothing dark will end our shining hour,

no jewel hold a candle to the cuckoo spit

hung from the blade of grass at your ear,

no chandelier or spotlight see you better lit

than here. Now. Time hates love, wants love poor,

but love spins gold, gold, gold from straw.
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CherryWine
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#5
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#5
They **** you up, your mum and dad
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you full of faults they had,
And add some extra, just for you.
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WhimsicalSloth
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#6
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#6
A deep volcanian yellow took the place,
Of her milder-mooned body's grace,
And as the lava ravishes the mead,
Spoilt all her silver mail and golden brede,
Made gloom of all her frecklings, streaks and bars,
Eclips'd her crescents and licked up her stars,
So that, in moments few, she was undrest,
Of all her sapphires, greens and amethyst,
And rubious-argent: of all these bereft,
Nothing but pain and ugliness were left
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uthred50
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#7
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#7
' “Hope” is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul'

- Emily Dickinson


'And just when you mean to tell her
That you have no love to give her
Then she gets you on her wavelength
And she lets the river answer
That you've always been her lover
And you want to travel with her
And you want to travel blind
And you know that she will trust you
For you've touched her perfect body with your mind. '

- Leonard Cohen
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