Love poems
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The Bridge of Sighs
© Thomas Hood
One more Unfortunate,
Weary of breath,
Rashly importunate,
Gone to her death!
Emmonsail's Heath in Winter
© John Clare
I love to see the old heath's withered brake
Mingle its crimpled leaves with furze and ling,
The Graves Of A Household
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
They grew in beauty, side by side,
They fill'd one home with glee;
Their graves are sever'd, far and wide,
By mount, and stream, and sea.
The Other Woman
© Madison Julius Cawein
You have shut me out from your tears and grief
Over the man laid low and hoary.
Listen to me now: I am no thief!--
You have shut me out from your tears and grief,--
Listen to me, I will tell my story.
XIV: Ode: To Sir William Sydney, On His Birth-day
© Benjamin Jonson
Now that the harth is crown'd with smiling fire,
And some do drink, and some do dance,
Flowers
© Thomas Hood
I will not have the mad Clytie,
Whose head is turned by the sun;
The tulip is a courtly queen,
Whom, therefore, I will shun;
Faithless Sally Brown
© Thomas Hood
Young Ben he was a nice young man,
A carpenter by trade;
And he fell in love with Sally Brown,
That was a lady's maid.
Evangeline: Preface
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
THIS is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,
Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,
Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic,
Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighboring ocean
Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest.
Faithless Nelly Gray
© Thomas Hood
Ben Battle was a soldier bold,
And used to war's alarms;
But a cannon-ball took off his legs,
So he laid down his arms.
Autumn
© Thomas Hood
I Saw old Autumn in the misty morn
Stand shadowless like Silence, listening
To silence, for no lonely bird would sing
Into his hollow ear from woods forlorn,
The Golden Legend: VI. The School Of Salerno
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
_Doctor Serafino._ I, with the Doctor Seraphic, maintain,
That a word which is only conceived in the brain
Is a type of eternal Generation;
The spoken word is the Incarnation.
Turns And Movies: Zudora
© Conrad Aiken
Here on the pale beach, in the darkness;
With the full moon just to rise;
They sit alone, and look over the sea,
Or into each other's eyes. . .
The Cold Change
© Caroline Norton
In the cold change which time hath wrought on love
(The snowy winter of his summer prime),
A Glee For Winter
© Alfred Domett
HENCE, rude Winter! crabbed old fellow,
Never merry, never mellow!
Turns And Movies: The Cornet
© Conrad Aiken
When she came out, that white little Russian dancer,
With her bright hair, and her eyes, so young, so young,
He suddenly lost his leader, and all the players,
And only heard an immortal music sung,
Turns And Movies: Rose And Murray
© Conrad Aiken
After the movie, when the lights come up,
He takes her powdered hand behind the wings;
She, all in yellow, like a buttercup,
Lifts her white face, yearns up to him, and clings;
"My Fair, no beauty of thine will last"
© Alice Meynell
My Fair, no beauty of thine will last
Save in my love's eternity.
Thy smiles, that light thee fitfully,
Are lost for ever--their moment past--
Except the few thou givest to me.
Turns And Movies: Dancing Adairs
© Conrad Aiken
Behold me, in my chiffon, gauze, and tinsel,
Flitting out of the shadow into the spotlight,
And into the shadow again, without a whisper!
Firefly's my name, I am evanescent.
The Valley Of Dunloe
© William Percy French
Have the faries all departed
And left me broken-hearted,
To mourn the little creatures we loved so long ago?
Ah! most of them have vanished
But there's one that isn't banished
For I met her as I wandered in the Valley of Dunloe.
The House Of Dust: Part 04: 06: Cinema
© Conrad Aiken
The music ends. The screen grows dark. We hurry
To go our devious secret ways, forgetting
Those many lives . . . We loved, we laughed, we killed,
We danced in fire, we drowned in a whirl of sea-waves.
The flutes are stilled, and a thousand dreams are stilled.
