Poems begining by L

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Love Song

© William Carlos Williams

I lie here thinking of you:the stain of love
is upon the world!
Yellow, yellow, yellow
it eats into the leaves,

Love's Ebb And Flow

© Aleksey Konstantinovich Tolstoy

Believe me not, dear, when in hours of anguish
I say my love for thee exists no more.
At ebb of tide, think not the sea is faithless;
It will return with love unto the shore.

Lines Written on the Sea-Coast

© Mary Darby Robinson

SWIFT o'er the bounding deep the VESSEL glides,
Its streamers flutt'ring in the summer gales,
The lofty mast the breezy air derides,
As gaily o'er the glitt'ring surf she sails.

Lines Written by the Side of a River

© Mary Darby Robinson

FLOW soft RIVER, gently stray,
Still a silent waving tide
O'er thy glitt'ring carpet glide,
While I chaunt my ROUNDELAY,

Lines to the memory of Richard Boyle, Esq.

And when stern FATE, with ruthless rancour, press'd
Thy withering graces to her flinty breast;
Bright JUSTICE darted from her bless'd abode,
And bore thy VIRTUES to the throne of GOD;
While cold OBLIVION stealing o'er thy mind,
Each youthful folly to the grave consign'd.

Lines to Him Who Will Understand Them

© Mary Darby Robinson

No, I will breathe the spicy gale;
Plunge the clear stream, new health exhale;
O'er my pale cheek diffuse the rose,
And drink OBLIVION to my woes.

Lines on Hearing it Declared that No Women Were So Handsome as the English

© Mary Darby Robinson

ITALIA boasts the melting fair,
The pointed step, the haughty air,
Th' empassion'd tone, the languid eye,
The song of thrilling harmony;
Insidious LOVE conceal'd in smiles
That charmsand as it charms beguiles.

Lines inscribed to P. de Loutherbourg, Esq. R. A.

© Mary Darby Robinson

WHERE on the bosom of the foamy RHINE,
In curling waves the rapid waters shine;
Where tow'ring cliffs in awful grandeur rise,
And midst the blue expanse embrace the skies;

Life

© Mary Darby Robinson

"What is this world?thy school, O misery!
"Our only lesson is to learn to suffer." - YOUNG.
LOVE, thou sportive fickle boy,
Source of anguish, child of joy,

Lu Mountain, Kiangsi

© Li Po

Let me reach those Sublime Hills
Where peace comes to the quiet heart.
No more need to find the magic cup.
Ill wash the dust, there, from my face,
And live in those regions that I love,
Separated from the Human World.

Lewin and Gynneth

© Mary Darby Robinson

"WHEN will my troubled soul have rest?"
The beauteous LEWIN cried;
As thro' the murky shade of night
With frantic step she hied.

Let Us Have Madness

© Kenneth Patchen

Let us have madness openly.

O men Of my generation.

Loud Music

© Stephen Dobyns

My stepdaughter and I circle round and round.
You see, I like the music loud, the speakers
throbbing, jam-packing the room with sound whether
Bach or rock and roll, the volume cranked up so

Laureate

DEATH met a little child who cried
For a bright star which earth denied,
And Death, so sympathetic, kissed it,
Saying: "With me
All bright things be!"--
And only the child's mother missed it.

London Poets

© Amy Levy

The sorrow of their souls to them did seem
As real as mine to me, as permanent.
To-day, it is the shadow of a dream,
The half-forgotten breath of breezes spent.
So shall another soothe his woe supreme--
"No more he comes, who this way came and went."

London in July

© Amy Levy

What ails my senses thus to cheat?
What is it ails the place,
That all the people in the street
Should wear one woman's face?

Lohengrin

© Amy Levy

God, we have lost Thee with much questioning.
In vain we seek Thy trace by sea and land,
And in Thine empty fanes where no men sing.
What shall we do through all the weary days?
Thus wail we and lament. Our eyes we raise,
And, lo, our Brother with an outstretched hand!