Poems begining by L
/ page 79 of 128 /
Lovely One
© Pablo Neruda
Lovely one,
Just as on the cool stone
Of the spring, the water
Opens a wide flash of foam,
So is the smile of your face,
Lovely one.
Liberty
© James Whitcomb Riley
or a hundred years the pulse of time
Has throbbed for Liberty;
For a hundred years the grand old clime
Columbia has been free;
For a hundred years our country's love,
The Stars and Stripes, has waved above.
Love's Growth
© John Donne
I scarce believe my love to be so pure
As I had thought it was,
Because it doth endure
Vicissitude, and season, as the grass ;
Methinks I lied all winter, when I swore
My love was infinite, if spring make it more.
LA SCERTA (The Choice)
© Giuseppe Gioacchino Belli
Sta accusì. La padrona cor padrone,
Volenno marità la padroncina
Je portonno davanti una matina,
Pe sceje, du' bravissime perzone.
Lines. "Here be the free gifts of the morning for thee"
© Frances Anne Kemble
Here be the free gifts of the morning for thee;
Dog-roses, with their thorns all strung with pearls,
Life In Her Creaking Shoes
© William Ernest Henley
Life in her creaking shoes
Goes, and more formal grows,
Las Desterradas
© Ramon Lopez Velarde
Ya la provincia toda
reconcentra a sus sanas hijas de las caducas
avenidas, y Rut y Rebeca proclaman
la novedad campestre de sus nucas.
Late October
© Madison Julius Cawein
Ah, haughty hills, sardonic solitudes,
What wizard touch hath, crowning you with gold,
Cast Tyrian purple o'er broad-shouldered woods,
And to your pride anointed empire sold
For wan traditioned death, whose misty moods
Shake each huge throne of quarried shadows cold?
Looking East
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
LITTLE white clouds, why are you flying
Over the sky so blue and cold?
Fair faint hopes, why are you lying
Over my heart like a white cloud's fold?
L'Aveugle
© André Marie de Chénier
'Dieu dont l'arc est d'argent, dieu de Claros, écoute;
O Sminthée-Apollon, je périrai sans doute,
Si tu ne sers de guide à cet aveugle errant.'
Leaning Into The Afternoons
© Pablo Neruda
Leaning into the afternoons I cast my sad nets
towards your oceanic eyes.
There in the highest blaze my solitude lengthens and flames,
its arms turning like a drowning man's.
Le lis
© François Coppée
Hors du coffret de laque aux clous d'argent, parmi
Les fleurs du tapis jaune aux nuances calmées,
Le riche et lourd collier qu'agrafent deux camées,
Ruisselle et se répand sur la table à demi.
Le Mendiant
© André Marie de Chénier
C'était quand le printemps a reverdi les prés.
La fille de Lycus, vierge aux cheveux dorés,
Lines Rhymed In A Letter From Oxford
© John Keats
I.
The Gothic looks solemn,
The plain Doric column
Supports an old Bishop and Crosier;
Lake Louise
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
I THINK that when the Master Jeweler tells
His beads of beauty over, seeking there
One gem to name as most supremely fair,
To you He turns, O lake of hidden wells!
Last Night-- And This
© James Whitcomb Riley
Last night-- how deep the darkness was!
And well I knew its depths, because
I waded it from shore to shore,
Thinking to reach the light no more.
"Love is not love . . . "
© Lesbia Harford
When I was still a child
I thought my love would be
Noble, truthful, brave,
And very kind to me.
Lemmebesomethin
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Now if I can't be your hotdog lemme be your little weiner
Baby if I can't be your regular man lemme be your in betweener
And if I can't be your human torch lemme be your submariner
Well hey baby don't you leave me this way lemme be somethin'
