Love poems
/ page 1040 of 1285 /
The Dead Christ
© Julia Ward Howe
Take the dead Christ to my chamber,
The Christ I brought from Rome;
They Shall Be Mine, Saith The Lord
© John Newton
When sinners utter boasting words,
And glory in their shame;
The Lord, well-pleased, an ear affords
To those who fear his name.
The Song of a Man Who has Come Through
© David Herbert Lawrence
Oh, for the wonder that bubbles into my soul,
I would be a good fountain, a good well-head,
Would blur no whisper, spoil no expression.
Unto This Last
© Francis Thompson
A boy's young fancy taketh love
Most simply, with the rind thereof;
Drunk
© David Herbert Lawrence
Too far away, oh love, I know,
To save me from this haunted road,
Whose lofty roses break and blow
On a night-sky bent with a load
Irony
© David Herbert Lawrence
Always, sweetheart,
Carry into your room the blossoming boughs of cherry,
Almond and apple and pear diffuse with light, that very
Soon strews itself on the floor; and keep the radiance of spring
In a Boat
© David Herbert Lawrence
See the stars, love,
In the water much clearer and brighter
Than those above us, and whiter,
Like nenuphars.
Santa Decca
© Oscar Wilde
Some God lies hidden in the asphodel.
Ah Love! if such there be then it were well
For us to fly his anger: nay, but see
The leaves are stirring: let us watch a-while.
Discipline
© David Herbert Lawrence
It is stormy, and raindrops cling like silver bees to the pane,
The thin sycamores in the playground are swinging with flattened leaves;
The heads of the boys move dimly through a yellow gloom that stains
The class; over them all the dark net of my discipline weaves.
The Witch's Frolic
© Richard Harris Barham
Thou mayest have read, my little boy Ned,
Though thy mother thine idlesse blames,
In Doctor Goldsmith's history book,
Of a gentleman called King James,
In quilted doublet, and great trunk breeches,
Who held in abhorrence tobacco and witches.
Nancy
© Robert Bloomfield
You ask me, dear Nancy, what makes me presume
That you cherish a secret affection for me?
When we see the Flow'rs bud, don't we look for the Bloom?
Then, sweetest, attend, while I answer to thee.
Love And Loss
© Madison Julius Cawein
Loss molds our lives in many ways,
And fills our souls with guesses;
Upon our hearts sad hands it lays
Like some grave priest that blesses.
Elegy
© David Herbert Lawrence
Since I lost you, my darling, the sky has come near,
And I am of it, the small sharp stars are quite near,
The white moon going among them like a white bird among snow-berries,
And the sound of her gently rustling in heaven like a bird I hear.
The Me Within Thee Blind!
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Since God is lost, then all is lost indeed.
You did not know the comfort or the need
Of God for me, who am so frail and weak.
Blown by all winds, I know not where to seek.
Beautiful Old Age
© David Herbert Lawrence
It ought to be lovely to be old
to be full of the peace that comes of experience
and wrinkled ripe fulfilment.
Time to Be Wise
© Walter Savage Landor
YES; I write verses now and then,
But blunt and flaccid is my pen,
No longer talkd of by young men
As rather clever;
The Piano (Notebook Version)
© David Herbert Lawrence
The full throated woman has chosen a winning, living song
And surely the heart that is in me must belong
To the old Sunday evenings, when darkness wandered outside
And hymns gleamed on our warm lips, as we watched mother's fingers glide
A Spiritual Woman
© David Herbert Lawrence
Close your eyes, my love, let me make you blind;
They have taught you to see
Only a mean arithmetic on the face of things,
A cunning algebra in the faces of men,
Music
© Henry Van Dyke
O lead me by the hand,
And let my heart have rest,
And bring me back to childhood land,
To find again the long-lost band
Of playmates blithe and blest.
