Love poems
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Fourteenth Sunday After Trinity
© John Keble
Ten cleansed, and only one remain!
Who would have thought our nature's stain
Veni, Vidi, Vixi (French & English)
© Victor Marie Hugo
J'ai bien assez vécu, puisque dans mes douleurs
Je marche, sans trouver de bras qui me secourent,
Puisque je ris à peine aux enfants qui m'entourent,
Puisque je ne suis plus réjoui par les fleurs ;
Thy Form Is Lovely
© Sappho
Thy form is lovely and thine eyes are honeyed,
O'er thy face the pale
Clear light of love lies like a veil.
Bidding thee rise,
With outstretched hands,
Before thee Aphrodite stands.
Pan liveth
© Eugene Field
They told me once that Pan was dead,
And so, in sooth, I thought him;
For vainly where the streamlets led
Through flowery meads I sought him--
Abraham Lincoln
© James Russell Lowell
Such was he, our Martyr-Chief,
Whom late the Nation he had led,
Orkney Lullaby
© Eugene Field
A moonbeam floateth from the skies,
Whispering, "Heigho, my dearie!
I would spin a web before your eyes,--
A beautiful web of silver light,
And You As Well Must Die, Beloved Dust
© Edna St. Vincent Millay
And you as well must die, beloved dust,
And all your beauty stand you in no stead;
To The Beloved
© Giacomo Leopardi
Beauty beloved, who hast my heart inspired,
Seen from afar, or with thy face concealed,
Mysterious doings
© Eugene Field
As once I rambled in the woods
I chanced to spy amid the brake
A huntsman ride his way beside
A fair and passing tranquil lake;
Christmas, 1880
© George MacDonald
Great-hearted child, thy very being The Son,
Who know'st the hearts of all us prodigals;-
Mr. Dana, of the New York Sun
© Eugene Field
Thar showed up out'n Denver in the spring uv '81
A man who'd worked with Dana on the Noo York Sun.
His name wuz Cantell Whoppers, 'nd he wuz a sight ter view
Ez he walked inter the orfice 'nd inquired fer work ter do.
To The New-Born
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
A BLESSING on thy head, thou child of many hopes and fears!
A rainbow-welcome thine hath been, of mingled smiles and tears.
Thy father greets thee unto life, with a full and chasten'd heart,
For a solemn gift from God thou com'st, all precious as thou art!
Mother and child
© Eugene Field
One night a tiny dewdrop fell
Into the bosom of a rose,--
"Dear little one, I love thee well,
Be ever here thy sweet repose!"
Mediaeval eventide song
© Eugene Field
Come hither, lyttel childe, and lie upon my breast to-night,
For yonder fares an angell yclad in raimaunt white,
And yonder sings ye angell as onely angells may,
And his songe ben of a garden that bloometh farre awaye.
Mary smith
© Eugene Field
Away down East where I was reared amongst my Yankee kith,
There used to live a pretty girl whose name was Mary Smith;
And though it's many years since last I saw that pretty girl,
And though I feel I'm sadly worn by Western strife and whirl;
Will Ye Also Go Away?
© John Newton
When any turn from Zion's way,
(Alas! what numbers do!)
Methinks I hear my Saviour say,
Wilt thou forsake me too?
Marthy's younkit
© Eugene Field
The mountain brook sung lonesomelike, and loitered on its way
Ez if it waited for a child to jine it in its play;
The wild-flowers uv the hillside bent down their heads to hear
The music uv the little feet that had somehow grown so dear;
The Illusion of Love
© Sarojini Naidu
Beloved, you may be as all men say
Only a transient spark
Of flickering flame set in loam of clay
I care not
since you kindle all my dark
With the immortal lustres of the day.
On The Reverend Mr. Love, In The Cathedral At Bristol
© Hannah More
O let him in some pause of anguish say,
What zeal inflam'd, what faith enlarg'd his breast;
How glad th' unfetter'd spirit wing'd its way
From earth to heav'n, from blessing to be blest!
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!
