Poems begining by L
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Le Forgeron (The Blacksmith)
© Arthur Rimbaud
Le bras sur un marteau gigantesque, effrayant
D'ivresse et de grandeur, le front large, riant
Limerick: There was a Young Lady of Portugal
© Edward Lear
There was a Young Lady of Portugal,
Whose ideas were excessively nautical:
She climbed up a tree,
To examine the sea,
But declared she would never leave Portugal.
Looking Forward
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
How busily those little fingers soft
That within mine own are clasped so oft
Life's Slacker
© Edgar Albert Guest
The saddest sort of death to die
Would be to quit the game called life
Lovely Chance
© Sara Teasdale
O LOVELY chance, what can I do
To give my gratefulness to you?
You rise between myself and me
With a wise persistency;
La Ascension y La Asuncion
© Ramon Lopez Velarde
Vive conmigo no sé qué mujer
invisible y perfecta, que me encumbra
en cada anochecer y amanecer.
L'Horloge (The Clock)
© Charles Baudelaire
Horloge! dieu sinistre, effrayant, impassible,
Dont le doigt nous menace et nous dit: «Souviens-toi!
Les vibrantes Douleurs dans ton coeur plein d'effroi
Se planteront bientôt comme dans une cible;
Lucy and Colin
© Thomas Tickell
Of Leinster, fam'd for maidens fair,
Bright Lucy was the grace;
Nor e'er did Liffy's limpid stream
Reflect so fair a face,
Lear
© Thomas Hood
A poor old king, with sorrow for my crown,
Throned upon straw, and mantled with the wind
For pity, my own tears have made me blind
That I might never see my children's frown;
Lines, Written In The Memory Of Elizabeth Smith
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Daughter of heav'n! if here, e'en here,
The wing of tow'ring thought was thine;
If, on this dim and mundane sphere,
Fair truth illum'd thy bright career,
With morning-star divine;
Limerick: There was an Old Man of the Nile,
© Edward Lear
There was an Old Man of the Nile,
Who sharpened his nails with a file,
Till he cut out his thumbs,
And said calmly, 'This comes
Of sharpening one's nails with a file!'
Legend
© Stephen Vincent Benet
The trees were sugared like wedding-cake
With a bright hoar frost, with a very cold snow,
When we went begging for Jesus' sake,
Penniless children, years ago.
Lines On The Place De La Concorde At Paris,
© Amelia Opie
PROUD Seine, along thy winding tide
Fair smiles yon plain expanding wide,
And, deckt with art and nature's pride,
Seems formed for jocund revelry.
Lord Nevil's Advice
© Ada Cambridge
"Friend," quoth Lord Nevil, "thou art young
To face the world, and thou art blind
To subtle ways of womankind;
The meshes thou wilt fall among.
Lament
© Katharine Tynan
Suvla, name of bitterness,
Myrrh and aloes in the mouth,
Salt as Dead Sea water is!
All that splendour, all that youth,
All that nobleness! Oh, waste
Of the dearest, loveliest!
Lamia Unveiled
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
HER step is soft as a fay's footfall,
And her eyes are wonderful founts of blue;
But I've seen that small foot spurning hearts,
And the soul that burns so strangely through
Those orbs of blue,
O! is't a human soul at all?
Love's Worship Restored
© Robert Fuller Murray
O Love, thine empire is not dead,
Nor will we let thy worship go,
Love And Knowledge
© Edith Nesbit
THOUGH you and I so long have been so near--
Have felt each other's heart-beats hour by hour,
