Poems begining by L
/ page 13 of 128 /
Lethe.
© Robert Crawford
The waves of Lethe wash till we forget
Our earthy life and love; and 'twould appear
Before Time's tune possessed us, before we
Let fall the shadow of our meaning here
Loves Autumn [To My Wife.]
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
I WOULD not lose a single silvery ray
Of those white locks which like a milky way
Streak the dusk midnight of thy raven hair;
Let's Go
© Edgar Albert Guest
"There isn't any business," wailed the sad and gloomy man;
"I haven't made a dollar since the armistice began."
London Types: Mounted Police
© William Ernest Henley
Army Reserve; a worshipper of Bobs,
With whom he stripped the smock from Candahar;
Love, Love
© Pedro Calderon de la Barca
What is the glory far above
All else in human life?
Love! Love!
There is no form in which the fire
Liberation
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Deep in these thoughts, more tender than a sky
Whose light ebbs far as in futurity,
Deep, deeper yet my blessed spirit steep,
Singing of you still; you and only you
Lilac And Gold And Green
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Lilac and gold and green!
Those are the colours I love the best,
Spring's own raiment untouched and clean,
When the world is awake and yet hardly dressed,
Lines Written in Windsor Forest
© Alexander Pope
All hail, once pleasing, once inspiring shade!
Scene of my youthful loves and happier hours!
Language Lessons by Alexandra Teague : American Life in Poetry #223 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate
© Ted Kooser
There's lots of literature about the loss of innocence, because we all share in that loss and literature is about what we share. Here's a poem by Alexandra Teague, a San Franciscan, in which a child's awakening to the alphabet coincides with another awakening: the unsettling knowledge that all of us don't see things in the same way.
Language Lessons
The carpet in the kindergarten room
Lebid
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Gone are they the lost camps, light flittings, long sojournings
in Miná, in Gháula, Rijám left how desolate.
Lost are they. Rayyán lies lorn with its white torrent beds,
scored in lines like writings left by the flood--water.
Little Red Riding Hood and the Wolf
© Roald Dahl
Then added with a frightful leer,
"I'm therefore going to wait right here
Till Little Miss Red Riding Hood
Comes home from walking in the wood."
"Let Us Make A Leap, My Dear"
© Thomas Hood
Let us make a leap, my dear,
In our love, of many a year,
And date it very far away,
On a bright clear summer day,
London Types: Sandwich-Man
© William Ernest Henley
An ill March noon; the flagstones gray with dust;
An all-round east wind volleying straws and grit;
Limited Liability
© William Schwenck Gilbert
Some seven men form an Association
(If possible, all Peers and Baronets),
Lines. "To the smooth beach the silver sea"
© Frances Anne Kemble
To the smooth beach the silver sea
Comes rippling in a thousand smiles,
Lycabas
© George MacDonald
A name of the Year. Some say the word means a march of wolves,
which wolves, running in single file, are the Months of the Year.
Others say the word means the path of the light.
Lines Sent To Elia,
© John Kenyon
PS.
Beside the sty-born finding room to spare,
Begs kind acceptance of himselfa hare.
And since, being sylvan, he but ill indites,
Hopes he may eat much better than he writes.
Litany
© William Taylor Collins
You are the bread and the knife,
The crystal goblet and the wine…
-Jacques Crickillon
Lamia. Part I
© John Keats
Upon a time, before the faery broods
Drove Nymph and Satyr from the prosperous woods,
