Most Beautiful Poems

In all honesty I didn't know what to post about today so here are my two absolute favorite poems.They are so beautiful, and so emotional. The Highway man is a long poem so I just showed a clipping, but if you get a chance go check it out fully, its actually a really sad love story and its worth a read.

Bluebeard

THIS door you might not open, and you did;
So enter now, and see for what slight thing
You are betrayed…. Here is no treasure hid,
No cauldron, no clear crystal mirroring
The sought-for truth, no heads of women slain
For greed like yours, no writhings of distress,
But only what you see…. Look yet again—
An empty room, cobwebbed and comfortless.
Yet this alone out of my life I kept
Unto myself, lest any know me quite;
And you did so profane me when you crept
Unto the threshold of this room to-night
That I must never more behold your face.
This now is yours. I seek another place.   The Highwayman The tip of one finger touched it. She strove no more for the rest.    Up, she stood up to attention, with the muzzle beneath her breast.    She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again;    For the road lay bare in the moonlight;          Blank and bare in the moonlight; And the blood of her veins, in the moonlight, throbbed to her love’s refrain. Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horsehoofs ringing clear;    Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot, in the distance? Were they deaf that they did not hear? Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill, The highwayman came riding—          Riding—riding— The red coats looked to their priming! She stood up, straight and still. Tlot-tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night!    Nearer he came and nearer. Her face was like a light. Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath,    Then her finger moved in the moonlight,          Her musket shattered the moonlight, Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him—with her death. He turned. He spurred to the west; he did not know who stood    Bowed, with her head o’er the musket, drenched with her own blood!    Not till the dawn he heard it, and his face grew grey to hear    How Bess, the landlord’s daughter,          The landlord’s black-eyed daughter, Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.     See ya soon, Alex