10 Best Famous Scrutinize Poems

Here is a collection of the top 10 all-time best famous Scrutinize poems. This is a select list of the best famous Scrutinize poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Scrutinize poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of scrutinize poems.

• All Famous Scrutinize Poems

 A chilly Peace infests the Grass
The Sun respectful lies --
Not any Trance of industry
These shadows scrutinize --

Whose Allies go no more astray
For service or for Glee --
But all mankind deliver here
From whatsoever sea --

 I watched the Moon around the House
Until upon a Pane --
She stopped -- a Traveller's privilege -- for Rest --
And there upon

I gazed -- as at a stranger --
The Lady in the Town
Doth think no incivility
To lift her Glass -- upon --

But never Stranger justified
The Curiosity
Like Mine -- for not a Foot -- nor Hand --
Nor Formula -- had she --

But like a Head -- a Guillotine
Slid carelessly away --
Did independent, Amber --
Sustain her in the sky --

Or like a Stemless Flower --
Upheld in rolling Air
By finer Gravitations --
Than bind Philosopher --

No Hunger -- had she -- nor an Inn --
Her Toilette -- to suffice --
Nor Avocation -- nor Concern
For little Mysteries

As harass us -- like Life -- and Death --
And Afterwards -- or Nay --
But seemed engrossed to Absolute --
With shining -- and the Sky --

The privilege to scrutinize
Was scarce upon my Eyes
When, with a Silver practise --
She vaulted out of Gaze --

And next -- I met her on a Cloud --
Myself too far below
To follow her superior Road --
Or its advantage -- Blue --

 LOVE, I renounce thy tyrant sway,
I mock thy fascinating art,
MINE, be the calm unruffled day,
That brings no torment to the heart; 
The tranquil mind, the noiseless scene, 
Where FANCY, with enchanting mien, 
Shall in her right-hand lead along 
The graceful patroness of Song;
Where HARMONY shall softly fling 
Her light tones o'er the dulcet string; 
And with her magic LYRE compose 
Each pang that throbs, each pulse that glows; 
Till her resistless strains dispense, 
The balm of blest INDIFFERENCE. 

LOVE, I defy thy vaunted pow'r!
In still Retirement's sober bow'r
I'll rest secure;­no fev'rish pain
Shall dart its hot-shafts thro' my brain, 
No start'ling dreams invade my mind 
No spells my stagnate pulses bind; 
No jealous agonies impart 
Their madd'ning poisons to my heart 
But sweetly lull'd to placid rest, 
The sensate tenant of my breast 
Shall one unshaken course pursue, 
Such as thy vot'ries never knew.­ 

SWEET SOLITUDE ! pure Nature's child, 
Fair pensive daughter of the wild; 
Nymph of the Forest; thee I press 
My weary sick'ning soul to bless; 
To give my heart the dear repose, 
That smiles unmov'd at transient woes; 
That shelter'd from Life's trivial cares, 
Each calm delicious comfort shares; 
While conscious rectitude of mind, 
Blends with each thought a bliss refin'd, 
And scorning fear's soul-chilling pow'r, 
Dares court REFLECTION'S dang'rous hour, 
To scrutinize with cautious art, 
Each hidden channel of the heart.­ 

Ah, gentle maiden, let me stray,
Where Innocence for ever gay,
Shall lead me to her loveliest bow'rs
And crown my brow with thornless flow'rs;
And strew the weedy paths of time
With Resignation's balm sublime;
While Rosy SPRING, shall smiling haste,
On light steps o'er the dewy waste, 
Eager her brightest gems to shed 
Around my verdant perfum'd bed; 
And in her train the glowing hours 
Shall bathe their wings in scented show'rs; 
And shake the fost'ring drops to earth, 
To nurse meek blossoms into birth; 
And when autumnal zephyrs fly 
Sportive, beneath the sapphire sky, 
Or in the stream their pinions lave, 
Or teach the golden sheaves to wave; 
I'll watch the ruby eye of day 
In awful lustre glide away, 
And closing sink to transient rest, 
On panting Ocean's pearly breast. 

O SOLITUDE ! how blest the lot 
Of her who shares thy silent cot! 
Who with celestial peace, pursues 
The pensive wand'rings of the MUSE; 
To stray unseen where'er she leads, 
O'er grassy hills and sunny meads, 
Or at the still of Night's cold noon 
To gaze upon the chilly Moon, 
While PHILOMELA'S mournful Song 
Meanders fairy haunts among, 
To tell the hopeless LOVER'S ear, 
That SYMPATHY'S FOND BIRD is near; 
Whose note shall soothe his aching heart, 
Whose grief shall emulate his smart; 
And by its sadly proud excess, 
Make every pang he suffers less; 
For oft in passion's direst woes, 
The veriest wretch can yield repose; 
While from the voice of kindred grief, 
We gain a sad, but kind relief. 

AH LOVE! thou barb'rous fickle boy,
Thou semblance of delusive joy,
Too long my heart has been thy slave:
For thou hast seen me wildly rave,
And with impetuous frenzy haste,
Heedless across the thorny waste,
And drink the cold dews, ere they fell
On my bare bosom's burning swell;
When bleak the wintry whirlwinds blew;
And swift the sultry meteors flew;
Yes, thou hast seen me, tyrant pow'r,
At freezing midnight's witching hour,
Start from my couch, subdu'd, oppres'd,
While jealous anguish wrung my breast,
While round my eager senses flew,
Dark brow'd Suspicion's wily crew,
Taunting my soul with restless ire,
That set my pulsate brain on fire.
What didst thou then ? Inhuman Boy!
Didst thou not paint each well-feign'd joy,
Each artful smile, each study'd grace
That deck'd some sordid rival's face;
Didst thou not feed my madd'ning sense
With Love's delicious eloquence,
While on my ear thy accents pour'd
The voice of him my soul ador'd, 
His rapt'rous tones­his strains divine,
And all those vows that once were mine.
But mild Reflection's piercing ray,
Soon chas'd the fatal dream away,
And with it all my rending woes,
While in its place majestic rose
The Angel TRUTH !­her stedfast mien
Bespoke the conscious breast serene;
Her eye more radiant than the day
Beam'd with persuasion's temper'd ray;
Sweet was her voice, and while she sung
Myriads of Seraphs hover'd round,
Eager to iterate the sound, 
That on her heav'n-taught accents hung. 
Wond'ring I gaz'd! my throbbing breast, 
Celestial energies confest; 
Transports, before unfelt, unknown, 
Throng'd round my bosom's tremb'ling throne, 
While ev'ry nerve with rapture strange, 
Seem'd to partake the blissful change. 

Now with unmov'd and dauntless Eye,
I mark thy winged arrows fly;
No more thy baneful spells shall bind
The purer passions of my mind;
No more, false Love, shall jealous fears
Inflame my check with scalding tears;
Or shake my vanquish'd sense, or rend
My aching heart with poignant throes,
Or with tumultuous fevers blend,
Self-wounding, visionary woes.­ 

No more I'll waste the midnight hour 
In expectation's silent bow'r; 
And musing o'er thy transcripts dear, 
Efface their sorrows with a tear. 
No more with timid fondness wait 
Till morn unfolds her glitt'ring gate, 
When thy lov'd song's seraphic sound, 
Wou'd on my quiv'ring nerves rebound 
With proud delight;­no more thy blush 
Shall o'er my cheek unbidden rush, 
And scorning ev'ry strong controul, 
Unveil the tumults of my soul. 
No more when in retirement blest, 
Shalt thou obtrude upon my rest; 
And tho' encircled with delight, 
Absorb my sense, obscure my sight, 
Give to my eye the vacant glance, 
The mien that marks the mental trance; 
The fault'ring tone­the sudden start, 
The trembling hand, the bursting heart; 
The devious step, that strolls along 
Unmindful of the gazing throng; 
The feign'd indiff'rence prone to chide; 
That blazons­what it seeks to hide. 

Nor do I dread thy vengeful wiles, 
Thy soothing voice, thy winning smiles, 
Thy trick'ling tear, thy mien forlorn, 
Thy pray'r, thy sighs, thy oaths I scorn; 
No more on ME thy arrows show'r, 
Capricious Love­! I BRAVE THY POW'R.

 What did I study in your School of Night? 
When your mouth's first unfathomable yes 
Opened your body to be my book, I read 
My answers there and learned the spell aright, 
Yet, though I searched and searched, could never guess 
What spirits it raised nor where their questions led. 

Those others, familiar tenants of your sleep, 
The whisperers, the grave somnambulists 
Whose eyes turn in to scrutinize their woe, 
The giant who broods above the nightmare steep, 
That sleeping girl, shuddering, with clenched fists, 
A vampire baby suckling at her toe, 

They taught me most. The scholar held his pen 
And watched his blood drip thickly on the page 
To form a text in unknown characters 
Which, as I scanned them, changed and changed again: 
The lines grew bars, the bars a Delphic cage 
And I the captive of his magic verse.

 (After Rilke)


We cannot know the indescribable face
Where the eyes like apples ripened. Even so,
His torso has a candelabra's glow,
His gaze, contained as in a mirror's grace,

Shines within it. Otherwise his breast
Would not be dazzling. Nor would you recognize
The smile that moves along his curving thighs,
There where love's strength is caught within its nest.

This stone would not be broken, but intact 
Beneath the shoulders' flowing cataract, 
Nor would it glisten like a stallion's hide,

Brimming with radiance from every side
As a star sparkles. Now it is dawn once more.
All places scrutinize you. You must be reborn.

 The Suburbs of a Secret
A Strategist should keep,
Better than on a Dream intrude
To scrutinize the Sleep.

Dawn, darkness, evening, space and the stars; that which the night conceals or shows between its veils is mingled with the fervour of our exalted being. Those who live with love live with eternity.
It matters not that their reason approve or scoff, and, upright on its high walls, hold out to them, along the quays and harbours, its bright torches; they are the travellers from beyond the sea.
Far off, farther than the ocean and its black floods, they watch the day break from shore to shore; fixed certainty and trembling hope present the same front to their ardent gaze.
Happy and serene, they believe eagerly; their soul is the deep and sudden brightness with which they burn the summit of the loftiest problems; and to know the world, they but scrutinize themselves.
They follow distant roads chosen by themselves, living with the truths enclosed within their simple, naked eyes, that are deep and gentle as the dawn; and for them alone there is still song in paradise.