Poems begining by L
/ page 51 of 128 /Lament Of A Bereaved Person
© Confucius
A russet pear-tree rises all alone,
But rich the growth of leaves upon it shown!
Lines Written At Belvoir Castle, 1883
© Frances Anne Kemble
Two things remain unalter'd in this place,
Tho' since I came here forty years are told
The smiling loveliness of Nature's face,
And the fine spirit of kindly, courteous grace,
That still presides here as it did of yore.
Limerick: There was an Old Man with a flute
© Edward Lear
There was an Old Man with a flute,
A serpent ran into his boot;
But he played day and night,
Till the serpent took flight,
And avoided that man with a flute.
Letter In Verse
© John Clare
Like boys that run behind the loaded wain
For the mere joy of riding back again,
Limerick: There was a Young Person of Smyrna,
© Edward Lear
There was a Young Person of Smyrna,
Whose Grandmother threatened to burn her;
But she seized on the cat,
And said, 'Granny, burn that!
You incongruous Old Woman of Smyrna!'
Love-Wonder
© Archibald Lampman
But ah, Beloved, how shall I be taught
To tell this truth in any rhymed line?
For words and woven phrases fall to naught,
Lost in the silence of one dream divine,
Wrapped in the beating wonder of this thought:
Even thou, who art so precious, thou art mine!
Little Ballads Of Timely Warning; III:
© Ellis Parker Butler
Little Ballads Of Timely Warning; III: On Laziness And Its Resultant Ills
There was a man in New York City
(His name was George Adolphus Knight)
So soft of heart he wept with pity
To see our language and its plight.
Lines on A Fly-Leaf
© John Greenleaf Whittier
I need not ask thee, for my sake,
To read a book which well may make
Laus Deo
© Madison Julius Cawein
IN her vast church of glimmering blue,
Gray-stoled from feet to chin,
Her dark locks beaded with the dew,
The nun-like dawn comes in:
La Ultima Odalisca
© Ramon Lopez Velarde
Mi carne pesa, y se intimida
porque su peso fabuloso
es la cadena estremecida
de los cuerpos universales
que se han unido con mi vida.
Lips Shut. Seen In Rome
© Arthur Rimbaud
In Rome within the Sistine Chapel,
Covered over with Christian signs,
There is a scarlet coloured casket
Where most ancient noses dry:
Lines.Oft on that latest star
© Louisa Stuart Costello
Oft on that latest star of purest light,
That hovers on the verge of morning gray,
I gaze, and think of eyes that gleam'd as bright,
As fondly linger'd, and yet passd away.
Laurance - [Part 2]
© Jean Ingelow
Then looking hard upon her, came to him
The power to feel and to perceive. Her teeth
Chattered, and all her limbs with shuddering failed,
And in her threadbare shawl was wrapped a child
That looked on him with wondering, wistful eyes.
Love And Life.
© Arthur Henry Adams
I.
AS some faint wisp of fragrance, floating wide
A pennant-perfume on the evening air
From a walled garden, flower-filled and fair,
Love Is A Terrible Thing
© Grace Fallow Norton
"For there is a flame that has blown too near,
And there is a name that has grown too dear,
And there is a fear"...
Love Worn by Lita Hooper: American Life in Poetry #75 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
In many American poems, the poet makes a personal appearance and offers us a revealing monologue from center stage, but there are lots of fine poems in which the poet, a stranger in a strange place, observes the lives of others from a distance and imagines her way into them. This poem by Lita Hooper is a good example of this kind of writing.
Love Worn
In a tavern on the Southside of Chicago
a man sits with his wife. From their corner booth
each stares at strangers just beyond the other's shoulder,
nodding to the songs of their youth. Tonight they will not fight.
Laughter Holding Both His Sides
© James Whitcomb Riley
Ay, thou varlet! Laugh away!
All the world's a holiday!
Living
© William Dean Howells
HOW passionately I will my life away
Which I would give all that I have to stay;
How wildly I hurry, for the change I crave.
To hurl myself into the changeless grave!
Love Sonnet XXVIII
© Zora Bernice May Cross
My Poet, let the tempest rise once more,
Until from spirit out of spirit, wise
And free, we draw our own youth back again
My dimpled chin, your eyes; and learn the lore
Of everlasting life and all emprise
From the sweet child that comes to us through pain.
Life
© Madison Julius Cawein
There is never a thing we dream or do
But was dreamed and done in the ages gone;
Everything's old; there is nothing that's new,
And so it will be while the world goes on.