Poems begining by L
/ page 81 of 128 /Love's Treasure House
© David MacDonald Ross
I went to Love's old treasure house last night,
Alone, when all the world was still - asleep,
Late Night with Fog and Horses
© Raymond Carver
They were in the living room. Saying their
goodbyes. Loss ringing in their ears.
Lovest Thou Me?
© John Newton
'Tis a point I long to know,
Oft it causes anxious thought;
Do I love the Lord, or no?
Am I his, or am I not?
LInvention
© André Marie de Chénier
O fils du Mincius, je te salue, ô toi
Par qui le dieu des arts fut roi du peuple-roi!
Love-Free
© Sara Teasdale
I am free of love as a bird flying south in the autumn,
Swift and intent, asking no joy from another,
Glad to forget all of the passion of April
Ere it was love-free.
Limerick:There was an Old Person of Burton
© Edward Lear
There was an Old Person of Burton,
Whose answers were rather uncertain;
When they said, 'How d'ye do?'
He replied, 'Who are you?'
That distressing Old Person of Burton.
Limerick: There was an Old Lady of Chertsey
© Edward Lear
There was an Old Lady of Chertsey,
Who made a remarkable curtsey;
She twirled round and round,
Till she sunk underground,
Which distressed all the people of Chertsey.
Love Inducin Christian Conduct
© John Bunyan
When understand my meaning by my words,
How sense of mercy unto faith affords
Love #3.
© Robert Crawford
There is so much in us is
godlike still,
Love lifts us to heaven
that is ours.
Love in a Mist
© Jessie Pope
[The most noteworthy characteristic of a wet summer
is the number of proposals made in the rain.]
Loyalty to the Flag
© Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer
In the love of home and country and the flag of Uncle Sam,
Can the loyalty be doubted of a dusky son of Ham?
Wheresoever duty calls him, as a freedman or a slave,
The response is ever hearty when "Old Glory" he would save.
Lines From A Plutocratic Poetaster To A Ditch-digger
© Franklin Pierce Adams
Sullen, grimy, labouring person,
As I passed you in my car,
Long Barren
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
Thou who didst hang upon a barren tree,
My God, for me;
Though I till now be barren, now at length
Lord, give me strength
To bring forth fruit to Thee.
Life is too short
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Life is too short for any vain regretting;
Let dead delight bury its dead, I say,
And let us go upon our way forgetting
The joys and sorrows of each yesterday
Losing
© Rainer Maria Rilke
Losing too is still ours; and even forgetting
still has a shape in the kingdom of transformation.
When something's let go of, it circles; and though we are
rarely the center
of the circle, it draws around us its unbroken, marvelous
curve.
Lullaby
© Dorothy Parker
Sleep, pretty lady, the night is enfolding you;
Drift, and so lightly, on crystalline streams.
Love's Own.
© Robert Crawford
Ah, that hair no age can dye
That is golden in Love's eye,
And that face time cannot touch
On which Love has gazed so much.