Love poems
/ page 1054 of 1285 /The Crucible Of Life
© Edgar Albert Guest
Sunshine and shadow, blue sky and gray,
Laughter and tears as we tread on our way;
Hearts that are heavy, then hearts that are light,
Eyes that are misty and eyes that are bright;
Losses and gains in the heat of the strife,
Each in proportion to round out his life.
Still Ist Die Nacht
© Heinrich Heine
The night is so still, the streets are at rest,
This is the house that my love graced,
Elizabeth Childers
© Edgar Lee Masters
Dust of my dust,
And dust with my dust,
O, child who died as you entered the world,
Dead with my death!
Louise Smith
© Edgar Lee Masters
Herbert broke our engagement of eight years
When Annabelle returned to the village
From the Seminary, ah me!
If I had let my love for him alone
Past One O'Clock, shorter version
© Vladimir Mayakovsky
Past one o'clock. You must have gone to bed.
The Milky Way streams silver through the night.
Oh That I Were As In Months Past!
© John Newton
Sweet was the time when first I felt
The Saviour's pard'ning blood
Applied, to cleanse my soul from guilt,
And bring me home to God.
Emily Sparks
© Edgar Lee Masters
Where is my boy, my boy --
In what far part of the world?
The boy I loved best of all in the school? --
I, the teacher, the old maid, the virgin heart,
Amanda Barker
© Edgar Lee Masters
Henry got me with child,
Knowing that I could not bring forth life
Without losing my own.
In my youth therefore I entered the portals of dust.
To Edward Noel Long, Esq.
© George Gordon Byron
'Nil ego contulerim jucundo sanus amico.'~Horace.
Dear Long, in this sequester'd scene,
While all around in slumber lie,
Here I Love You
© Pablo Neruda
Here I love you.
In the dark pines the wind disentangles itself.
The moon glows like phosphorous on the vagrant waters.
Days, all one kind, go chasing each other.
Pansy: Song-Words.
© Arthur Henry Adams
IN a crooked angle
Of a garden bower,
'Neath a weedy tangle
Grew a modest flower;
The Hill
© Edgar Lee Masters
Where are Elmer, Herman, Bert, Tom, and Charley,
The weak of will, the strong of arm, the clown, the boozer, the fighter?
All, all, are sleeping on the hill.
A Comrade
© Augusta Davies Webster
"I AM Joy," she said; but her voice was low,
Too low for laughter;
John Ballard
© Edgar Lee Masters
In the lust of my strength
I cursed God, but he paid no attention to me:
I might as well have cursed the stars.
In my last sickness I was in agony, but I was resolute
There Is Mercy With Thee
© Augustus Montague Toplady
Lord, should'st thou weigh my righteousness
Or mark what I have done amiss,
How should thy servant stand?
Tho' others might, yet surely I
Must hide my face, nor dare to cry
For mercy at thy hand.
The Suicides Grave (From The German)
© George Borrow
The evening shadows fall upon the grave
On which I sit; it is no common heap,
Below its turf are laid the bones of one,
Who, sick of life and misery, did quench
The vital spark which in his bosom burnd.