Poems begining by L
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Larghetto
© Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
Grant me but a day, love,
But a day,
Ere I give my heart,
My heart away,
Ere I say the word
I'll ne'er unsay.
Love
© Pierre Louys
Alas! if I think of her, my throat becomes
dry, my hand falls back, my breasts harden and
hurt, and I shiver and cry as I walk. If I
see her, my heart stops and my hands tremble,
Love's Pictures
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
Like the blush upon the rose
When the wooing south wind speaks,
Kissing soft its petals,
Are thy cheeks.
Lucky
© Thomas Lux
One sweet pound of filet mignon
sizzles on the roadside. Let's say a hundred yards below
the buzzard. The buzzard
sees no cars or other buzzards
Loves Portrait
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Out of the day--glare, out of all uproar,
Hurrying in ways disquieted, bring me
To silence, and earth's ancient peace restore,
That with profounder vision I may see.
Leisure
© William Henry Davies
What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.No time to see, in broad daylight,
Laughing Rose
© William Henry Davies
If I were gusty April now,
How I would blow at laughing Rose;
I'd make her ribbons slip their knots,
And all her hair come loose.
Longing
© Matthew Arnold
Come to me in my dreams, and then
By day I shall be well again!
For so the night will more than pay
The hopeless longing of the day.
Longfellow
© James Whitcomb Riley
The winds have talked with him confidingly;
The trees have whispered to him; and the night
Lyman, frederick, and jim
© Eugene Field
(FOR THE FELLOWSHIP CLU Lyman and Frederick and Jim, one day,
Set out in a great big ship--
Steamed to the ocean adown the bay
Out of a New York slip.
Long ago
© Eugene Field
I once knew all the birds that came
And nested in our orchard trees;
For every flower I had a name--
My friends were woodchucks, toads, and bees;
Little-oh dear
© Eugene Field
See, what a wonderful garden is here,
Planted and trimmed for my Little-Oh-Dear!
Posies so gaudy and grass of such brown -
Search ye the country and hunt ye the town
And never ye'll meet with a garden so queer
As this one I've made for my Little-Oh-Dear!
Little Willie
© Eugene Field
When Willie was a little boy,
No more than five or six,
Right constantly he did annoy
His mother with his tricks.
Little miss brag
© Eugene Field
Little Miss Brag has much to say
To the rich little lady from over the way
And the rich little lady puts out a lip
As she looks at her own white, dainty slip,
Little Mack
© Eugene Field
This talk about the journalists that run the East is bosh,
We've got a Western editor that's little, but, O gosh!
He lives here in Mizzoora where the people are so set
In ante-bellum notions that they vote for Jackson yet;
Limerick: There was an Old Man of Leghorn
© Edward Lear
There was an Old Man of Leghorn,
The smallest that ever was born;
But quickly snapped up he
Was once by a puppy,
Who devoured that Old Man of Leghorn.
Little Boy Blue
© Eugene Field
The little toy dog is covered with dust,
But sturdy and stanch he stands;
And the little toy soldier is red with rust,
And his musket molds in his hands.
Little all-aloney
© Eugene Field
Little All-Aloney's feet
Pitter-patter in the hall,
And his mother runs to meet
And to kiss her toddling sweet,
Lady button-eyes
© Eugene Field
When the busy day is done,
And my weary little one
Rocketh gently to and fro;
When the night winds softly blow,
Love After Love
© Derek Walcott
The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other's welcome,
