Love poems
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A Fairy Tale In The Ancient English Style
© Thomas Parnell
In Britain's Isle and Arthur's days,
When Midnight Faeries daunc'd the Maze,
An Epistle To An Editor
© Henry Austin Dobson
"We, that are very old" (the phrase
Is STEELE'S, not mine!), in former days,
Have seen so many "new Reviews"
Arise, arraign, absolve, abuse;--
Proclaim their mission to the top
(Where there's still room!), then slowly drop,
The Meeting
© George Meredith
The old coach-road through a common of furze,
With knolls of pine, ran white;
Berries of autumn, with thistles, and burrs,
And spider-threads, droop'd in the light.
Pastorals
© George Meredith
How sweet on sunny afternoons,
For those who journey light and well,
To loiter up a hilly rise
Which hides the prospect far beyond,
And fancy all the landscape lying
Beautiful and still;
"O Lord, the hope of Israel"
© Henry Vaughan
O Lord, the hope of Israel, all they that forsake
Thee shall be ashamed ; and they that depart from
Fameless Graves
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
I WALKED the ancient graveyard's ample round,
Yet found therein not one illustrious name
Wedded by Death to Fame.
The Climber
© Virna Sheard
He stood alone on Fame's high mountain top,
His hands at rest, his forehead bound with bay;
And yet he watched with eyes unsatisfied
The downward winding way.
Love is Blind
© John Le Gay Brereton
And can you tell me Love is blind
Because your faults he will not find,
Brothers, And A Sermon
© Jean Ingelow
“What, chorus! are you dumb? you should have cried,
‘So good comes out of evil;’” and with that,
As if all pauses it was natural
To seize for songs, his voice broke out again:
Dumbness
© Thomas Traherne
Sure Man was born to meditate on things,
And to contemplate the eternal springs
War
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Ambition, power, and avarice, now have hurled
Death, fate, and ruin, on a bleeding world.
See! on yon heath what countless victims lie,
Hark! what loud shrieks ascend through yonder sky;
Joseph
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
The mother smiled
As one who knew; and it is true they knelt
As to a King. The thing disturbs me much!
I'll ask--but no . . . . .
The Family Laramie
© William Henry Drummond
Hssh! look at ba-bee on de leetle blue chair,
W'at you t'ink hes tryin' to do?
Shadow
© Guillaume Apollinaire
Here you are beside me again
Memories of my companions killed in the war
Intima (Intimate)
© Delmira Agustini
Yo te diré los sueños de mi vida
En lo más hondo de la noche azul…
Mi alma desnuda temblará en tus manos,
Sobre tus hombros pesará mi cruz.
Compensation -- English Translation
© Rabindranath Tagore
Once I had a fancy to compose an epic
But by a sudden touch of your bangles
It burst into thousand songs
As a result of that accident
That epic is lying at my feet in smithereens.
Third Sunday After Trinity
© John Keble
O hateful spell of Sin! when friends are nigh,
To make stern Memory tell her tale unsought,
And raise accusing shades of hours gone by,
To come between us and all kindly thought!
Written In Petrarchs House At Arqua, Among The Euganean Hills
© Richard Monckton Milnes
Petrarch! I would that there might be
In this thy household sanctuary
No visible monument of thee:
