Love poems
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Polyphemus
© Alfred Austin
ACIS ``You are brighter than either. I cannot descry you
From radiant ripple until I come nigh you.
I lose you, I find you, again you grow dimmer,
Till round me seems nothing but shadow and shimmer.
'Tis your golden-rayed ringlets that baffle and blind me.''
Georgine Sand Miner
© Edgar Lee Masters
A step-mother drove me from home, embittering me.
A squaw-man, a flaneur and dilettante took my virtue.
For years I was his mistress -- no one knew.
I learned from him the parasite cunning
I Hear It Was Charged Against Me
© Walt Whitman
I HEAR it was charged against me that I sought to destroy
institutions;
A Mother's Wail
© Henry Timrod
My babe! my tiny babe! my only babe!
My single rose-bud in a crown of thorns!
My lamp that in that narrow hut of life,
Whence I looked forth upon a night of storm!
Burned with the lustre of the moon and stars!
Thursos Landing
© Robinson Jeffers
In the night Reave dreamed that Helen
Lay with him in the deep grave, he awoke loathing her,
But when the weak moment between sleep and waking
Was past, his need of her and his judgment of her
Knew their suspended duel; and he heard her breathing,
Irregularly, gently in the dark.
Remember Him, Whom Passion's Power
© George Gordon Byron
Remember him, whom Passion's power
Severely--deeply--vainly proved:
Remember thou that dangerous hour,
When neither fell, though both were loved.
Melville And Coghill - The Place Of The Little Hand
© Andrew Lang
DEAD, with their eyes to the foe,
Dead, with the foe at their feet;
Chords
© Madison Julius Cawein
When love delays, when love delays and Joy
Steals a strange shadow o'er the happy hills,
And Hope smiles from To-morrow, nor fulfills
One promise of To-day, thy sight would cloy
This soul with loved despair
By seeing thee so fair.
Roy Butler
© Edgar Lee Masters
If the learned Supreme Court of Illinois
Got at the secret of every case
As well as it does a case of rape
It would be the greatest court in the world.
William and Emily
© Edgar Lee Masters
There is something about Death
Like love itself!
If with some one with whom you have known passion,
And the glow of youthful love,
The Life Beyond
© Rupert Brooke
He wakes, who never thought to wake again,
Who held the end was Death. He opens eyes
The Priest's Heart
© Charles Kingsley
It was Sir John, the fair young Priest,
He strode up off the strand;
But seven fisher maidens he left behind
All dancing hand in hand.
Minerva Jones
© Edgar Lee Masters
I am Minerva, the village poetess,
Hooted at, jeered at by the Yahoos of the street
For my heavy body, cock-eye, and rolling walk,
And all the more when "Butch" Weldy
Sonnet 102: Wher Be Those Roses Gone
© Sir Philip Sidney
Where be those roses gone, which sweeten'd so our eyes?
Where those red cheeks, which oft with fair increase did frame
The height of honor in the kindly badge of shame?
Who hath the crimson weeds stol'n from my morning skies?
Mrs. Merritt
© Edgar Lee Masters
Silent before the jury,
Returning no word to the judge when he asked me
If I had aught to say against the sentence,
Only shaking my head.
Bacchanalia or The New Age
© Matthew Arnold
The world but feels the present's spell,
The poet feels the past as well;
Whatever men have done, might do,
Whatever thought, might think it too.
Preparatory Meditations - Second Series: 146
© Edward Taylor
My dear, dear Lord, I know not what to say:
Speech is too coarse a web for me to clothe
My love to Thee in or it to array
Or make a mantle. Would'st Thou not such loathe?
Thy love to me's too great for me to shape
A vesture for the same at any rate.
Sarah Brown
© Edgar Lee Masters
Maurice, weep not, I am not here under this pine tree.
The balmy air of spring whispers through the sweet grass,
The stars sparkle, the whippoorwill calls,
But thou grievest, while my soul lies rapturous
The Dagger
© Mikhail Lermontov
I like you well, O trusty dagger mine,
My comrade wrought of cool Damascus steel!
Forged were you by the Georgian with revenge in the mind,
By the Circassian free - for war were you made keen.
John Horace Burleson
© Edgar Lee Masters
I won the prize essay at school
Here in the village,
And published a novel before I was twenty-five.
I went to the city for themes and to enrich my art;
