Love poems
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A Cat
© Edward Thomas
She had a name among the children;
But no one loved though someone owned
Her, locked her out of doors at bedtime
And had her kittens duly drowned.
A Sketch
© George Gordon Byron
But to the theme, now laid aside too long,
The baleful burthen of this honest song,
Though all her former functions are no more,
She rules the circle which she served before.
Sunthin' In The Pastoral Line
© James Russell Lowell
Now I wuz settin' where I'd ben, it seemed,
An' ain't sure yit whether I rally dreamed,
Nor, ef I did, how long I might ha' slep',
When I hearn some un stompin' up the step,
An' lookirz' round, ef two an' two make four,
I see a Pilgrim Father in the door.
Outgrown
© Julia Caroline (Ripley) Dorr
Nay, you wrong her my friend, she's not fickle; her love she has simply outgrown:
One can read the whole matter, translating her heart by the light of one's own.
The Moon Maiden's Song
© Ernest Christopher Dowson
Sleep! Cast thy canopy
Over this sleeper's brain,
Dim grow his memory,
When he wake again.
"Sometimes I think the happiest of love's moments"
© Lesbia Harford
Sometimes I think the happiest of love's moments
Is the blest moment of release from loving.
The world once more is all one's own to model
Upon one's own and not another's pattern.
William Street
© Kenneth Slessor
The red globe of light, the liquor green,
the pulsing arrows and the running fire
spilt on the stones, go deeper than a stream;
You find this ugly, I find it lovely
On Hearing Of A Death
© Rainer Maria Rilke
We lack all knowledge of this parting. Death
does not deal with us. We have no reason
to show death admiration, love or hate;
his mask of feigned tragic lament gives us
Thief of the Moon
© Kenneth Slessor
Break, break thy strings, thou lutanists of earth,
Thy musics touch me not-let midnight cover
With pitchy seas those leaves of orange and lime,
I'll not repent. The world's no longer worth
One smile from thee, dear pirate of place and time,
Thief of old loves that haunted once thy lover!
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part IV: Vita Nova: CII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
THE VENUS OF MILO
What art thou? Woman? Goddess? Aphrodite?
Yet never such as thou from the cold foam
Of ocean, nor from cloudy heaven might come,
Mangroves
© Kenneth Slessor
O silent ones that drink these timeless pools,
Eternal brothers, bending so deeply over,
Your branches tremble above my tears again...
And even my songs are stolen from some old lover
Who cried beneath your leaves like other fools,
While still they whisper "in vain...in vain...in vain..."
Song (Untitled #6)
© George Meredith
The flower unfolds its dawning cup,
And the young sun drinks the star-dews up,
At eve it droops with the bliss of day,
And dreams in the midnight far away.
Lament Of An Icarus
© Charles Baudelaire
Lovers of whores dont care,
happy, calm and replete:
But my arms are incomplete,
grasping the empty air.
Getting Her A Valentine
© Edgar Albert Guest
GIVE me the prettiest valentine
You've got in the shop," said he,
"One with the tenderest sort o' line,
In type that her eyes can see.
One that she won't need her specs to read,
'I love you my darling,' is all I need.
Rutherford McDowell
© Edgar Lee Masters
They brought me ambrotypes
Of the old pioneers to enlarge.
And sometimes one sat for me
Some one who was in being
Wallace Ferguson
© Edgar Lee Masters
There at Geneva where Mt. Blanc floated above
The wine-hued lake like a cloud, when a breeze was blown
Out of an empty sky of blue, and the roaring Rhone
Hurried under the bridge through chasms of rock;
Johnson' s Wonder
© Henry Lawson
ID been right round by overlands to see the world and life,
And on the boat at Plymouth I met Johnson and his wife;
He was a man who knew the world and wore the know-all smile
His wife a silly pussy catthe soft, obedient style.
His constant source of comfort was his life was all serene,
His ceaseless source of wonder was that men could be so green.
Thomas Trevelyan
© Edgar Lee Masters
Reading in Ovid the sorrowful story of Itys,
Son of the love of Tereus and Procne, slain
For the guilty passion of Tereus for Philomela,
The flesh of him served to Tereus by Procne,
