Poems begining by L
/ page 114 of 128 /Lotus
© Rabindranath Tagore
On the day when the lotus bloomed, alas, my mind was straying,
and I knew it not. My basket was empty and the flower remained unheeded. Only now and again a sadness fell upon me, and I started up from my
dream and felt a sweet trace of a strange fragrance in the south wind. That vague sweetness made my heart ache with longing and it seemed to
me that is was the eager breath of the summer seeking for its completion. I knew not then that it was so near, that it was mine, and that this
Lost Time
© Rabindranath Tagore
On many an idle day have I grieved over lost time.
But it is never lost, my lord.
Thou hast taken every moment of my life in thine own hands.
Lost Star
© Rabindranath Tagore
When the creation was new and all the stars shone in their first
splendor, the gods held their assembly in the sky and sang
`Oh, the picture of perfection! the joy unalloyed!'
Little Of Me
© Rabindranath Tagore
Let only that little be left of my will
whereby I may feel thee on every side,
and come to thee in everything,
and offer to thee my love every moment.
Little Flute
© Rabindranath Tagore
Thou hast made me endless, such is thy pleasure. This frail
vessel thou emptiest again and again, and fillest it ever with fresh life. This little flute of a reed thou hast carried over hills and dales,
and hast breathed through it melodies eternally new. At the immortal touch of thy hands my little heart loses its limits in
joy and gives birth to utterance ineffable. Thy infinite gifts come to me only on these very small hands of mine.
Light
© Rabindranath Tagore
Light, my light, the world-filling light,
the eye-kissing light,
heart-sweetening light!
Let Me Not Forget
© Rabindranath Tagore
If it is not my portion to meet thee in this life
then let me ever feel that I have missed thy sight
---let me not forget for a moment,
let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams
and in my wakeful hours.
Leave This
© Rabindranath Tagore
Leave this chanting and singing and telling of beads!
Whom dost thou worship in this lonely dark corner of a temple with doors all shut?
Open thine eyes and see thy God is not before thee!
Last Curtain
© Rabindranath Tagore
I know that the day will come
when my sight of this earth shall be lost,
and life will take its leave in silence,
drawing the last curtain over my eyes.
Love Poem
© John Frederick Nims
My clumsiest dear, whose hands shipwreck vases,
At whose quick touch all glasses chip and ring,
Whose palms are bulls in china, burs in linen,
And have no cunning with any soft thing
Low Barometer
© Robert Seymour Bridges
The south-wind strengthens to a gale,
Across the moon the clouds fly fast,
The house is smitten as with a flail,
The chimney shudders to the blast.
Lord Kitchner
© Robert Seymour Bridges
Among Herculean deeds the miracle
That mass'd the labour of ten years in one
Shall be thy monument. Thy work was done
Ere we could thank thee; and the high sea swell
Surgeth unheeding where thy proud ship fell
By the lone Orkneys, at the set of sun.
Lingering by the doorway of the woods
© Ian Emberson
I was picking blackberries when I thought of the strange girl at the mental hospital.
Beautiful she was quietly beautiful. Yes and apparently nothing the matter with
her except that she was scared to go outside, and scared to go indoors. And so she just sat there in a chair by the entrance door she was there when I went in with the
Light
© John Milton
HAIL holy light, ofspring of Heav'n first-born,
Or of th' Eternal Coeternal beam
May I express thee unblam'd? since God is light,
And never but in unapproached light
Lycidas
© John Milton
In this Monody the author bewails a learned Friend, unfortunately
drowned in his passage from Chester on the Irish Seas, 1637;
and, by occasion, foretells the ruin of our corrupted Clergy,
then in their height.
L'Allegro
© John Milton
Hence, loathed Melancholy,
............Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born
In Stygian cave forlorn
............'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights
Lines Written in the Bay of Lerici
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
She left me at the silent time
When the moon had ceas'd to climb
The azure path of Heaven's steep,
And like an albatross asleep,
Lines
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
WHEN the lamp is shatter'd,
The light in the dust lies dead;
When the cloud is scatter'd,
The rainbow's glory is shed;
Lines Written Among The Euganean Hills
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Many a green isle needs must be
In the deep wide sea of Misery,
Or the mariner, worn and wan,
Never thus could voyage on -
Lift Not The Painted Veil Which Those Who Live
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Lift not the painted veil which those who live
Call Life: though unreal shapes be pictured there,
And it but mimic all we would believe
With colours idly spread,--behind, lurk Fear