The poem that I have chosen out of Ivor Gurney’s vast collection is one of my favorites, titled “Beauty.” This poem describes beauty as an immortal being that can heal what is wrongfully done. The writer is searching for this mystical being throughout the seasons, although every time he is just not quick enough to grasp this immortal concept. This poem demonstrates a vast ray of characteristics that the author has woven into his poetry, such as personification and ending-rhyme. I love this poem as it contributes a greater perspective on what beauty truly is and about those who search for it shall find it eventually.
The original poem for those interested:
Beauty
I cannot live with Beauty out of mind.
I search for her and desire her all the day;
Beauty, the choicest treasure you may find,
Most joyous and sweetest word his lips can say.
The crowded heart in me is quick with visions
And sweetest music born of a brighter day.
But though the trees have long since lost their green
And I, the exile, can but dream of things
Grown magic in the mind; I watch the sheen
Of frost, and hear the song Orion sings.
Yet O, the star-born passion of Beethoven,
Man's consolation sung on the quivering strings.
Beauty immortal, not to be hid, desire
Of all men, each in his fashion, give me the strong
Thirst past satisfaction for thee, and fire
Not to be quenched . . . . O lift me, bear me along,
Touch me, make me worthy that men may seek me
For Beauty, Mistress Immortal, Healer of Wrong
Beautiful!
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