Poems begining by L
/ page 56 of 128 /
Lines Written On The Pillar Erecting To The Memory Of Mr. Barlow,
© Helen Maria Williams
Minister of the United States at Paris, WHO DIED AT NAROWITCH IN POLAND, ON HIS RETURN
FROM WILNA, DEC. 26, 1812.
Letter to My Lover After Seven Years
© Erica Jong
You gave me the child
that seamed my belly
& stitched up my life.
Lullaby; By The Sea
© Eugene Field
Fair is the castle up on the hill-
Hushaby, sweet my own!
The night is fair, and the waves are still,
And the wind is singing to you and to me
In this lowly home beside the sea-
Hushaby, sweet my own!
Le Verbe ?tre
© André Breton
Je connais le d?sespoir dans ses grandes lignes. Le d?sespoir n'a pas d'ailes, il ne
se tient pas n?cessairement ? une table desservie sur une terrasse, le soir, au bord de
la mer. C'est le d?sespoir et ce n'est pas le retour d'une quantit? de petits faits
comme des graines qui quittent ? la nuit tombante un sillon pour un autre. Ce n'est pas
Legend of The Corrievrechan
© George MacDonald
Prince Breacan of Denmark was lord of the strand
And lord of the billowy sea;
Lord of the sea and lord of the land,
He might have let maidens be!
Lovethou art high
© Emily Dickinson
Lovethou art high
I cannot climb thee
But, were it Two
Who know but we
Taking turnsat the Chimborazo
Ducalat laststand up by thee
Love Sonnet XVII
© Pablo Neruda
I do not love you as if you were a salt rose, or topaz
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
Languid, And Sad, And Slow, From Day To Day
© William Lisle Bowles
Languid, and sad, and slow, from day to day
I journey on, yet pensive turn to view
(Where the rich landscape gleams with softer hue)
The streams and vales, and hills, that steal away.
Landing Under Water, I See Roots
© Annie Finch
All the things we hide in water
hoping we won't see them go
(forests growing under water
press against the ones we know)
Loveis that later Thing than Death
© Emily Dickinson
Loveis that later Thing than Death
More previousthan Life
Confirms it at its entranceAnd
Usurps itof itself
Letter Home
© Natasha Trethewey
--New Orleans, November 1910Four weeks have passed since I left, and still
I must write to you of no work. I've worn down
the soles and walked through the tightness
of my new shoes calling upon the merchants,
Les Fenêtres
© Guillaume Apollinaire
Du rouge au vert tout le jaune se meurt
Quand chantent les aras dans les forêts natales
Abatis de pihis
Il y a un poème à faire sur l'oiseau qui n'a qu'une aile
Les Colchiques
© Guillaume Apollinaire
Les enfants de l'école viennent avec fracas
Vêtus de hoquetons et jouant de l'harmonica
Ils cueillent les colchiques qui sont comme des mères
Filles de leurs filles et sont couleur de tes paupières
Qui battent comme les fleurs battent au vent dément
Less Time
© André Breton
Less time than it takes to say it, less tears than it takes to die; I've taken account of everything,
there you have it. I've made a census of the stones, they are as numerous as my fingers and some
Le Pont Mirabeau
© Guillaume Apollinaire
Sous le pont Mirabeau coule la Seine
Et nos amours
Faut-il qu'il m'en souvienne
La joie venait toujours après la peine.
Love for a Hand
© Karl Shapiro
But often when too steep her dream descends,
Perhaps to the grotto where her father bends
To pick her up, the husband wakes as though
He had forgotten something in the house.
Motionless he eyes the room that glows
With the little animals of light that prowl
L'enfance (Childhood)
© Victor Marie Hugo
L'enfant chantait; la mère au lit, exténuée,
Agonisait, beau front dans l'ombre se penchant ;
La mort au-dessus d'elle errait dans la nuée ;
Et j'écoutais ce râle, et j'entendais ce chant.
Lines Written in 1799.
© Amelia Opie
Now, pleased I mark the painter's skilful line,
And now, rejoice the skill I mark is thine:
And while I prize the gift by thee bestow'd,
My heart proclaims, I'm of the giver proud.
Thus pride and friendship war with equal strife,
And now the friend exults, and now the wife.
