Love poems
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Eve- Song
© Dame Mary Gilmore
He said he was strong. He had no strength
But that which comes of breadth and length.
He said he was fond. But his fondness proved
The flame of an hour when he was moved.
He said he was true. His truth was but
A door that winds could open and shut.
The Ballade Of The Glutton
© Norman Rowland Gale
O Redcoats of England, who struggle and dare,
Your glory's a morsel no glutton can please;
My yearning is all for a soft-cushioned chair,
Soused salmon and lamb and young ducks and green peas.
Ninon De Lenclos, On Her Last Birthday
© Dorothy Parker
So let me have the rouge again,
And comb my hair the curly way.
The poor young men, the dear young men
They'll all be here by noon today.
Of The Dangers Attending Altruism On The High Seas.
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Observe these Pirates bold and gay,
That sail a gory sea:
Notice their bright expression:--
The handsome one is me.
The Harp Of The Minstrel
© James Whitcomb Riley
The harp of the minstrel has never a tone
As sad as the song in his bosom to-night,
The Hunter's Serenade
© William Cullen Bryant
Thy bower is finished, fairest!
Fit bower for hunter's bride--
A Poem For Children With Thoughts On Death
© Jupiter Hammon
O ye young and thoughtless youth,
Come seek the living God,
The scriptures are a sacred truth,
Ye must believe the word.
The Two April Mornings
© William Wordsworth
We walked along, while bright and red
Uprose the morning sun;
And Matthew stopped, he looked, and said
`The will of God be done!'
The Enthusiast, or the Lover of Nature
© Joseph Warton
Ye green-rob'd Dryads, oft' at dusky Eve
By wondering Shepherds seen, to Forests brown,
Sutherlands Grave
© Henry Kendall
ALL NIGHT long the sea out yonderall night long the wailful sea,
Vext of winds and many thunders, seeketh rest unceasingly!
The Brewing Of Soma
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The fagots blazed, the caldron's smoke
Up through the green wood curled;
"Bring honey from the hollow oak,
Bring milky sap," the brewers spoke,
In the childhood of the world.
The Pleasures of Melancholy
© Thomas Warton
Mother of musings, Contemplation sage,
Whose grotto stands upon the topmost rock
Of Teneriffe; 'mid the tempestuous night,
On which, in calmest meditation held,
A Lover
© Amy Lowell
If I could catch the green lantern of the firefly
I could see to write you a letter.
The Sycamores
© John Greenleaf Whittier
In the outskirts of the village
On the river's winding shores
Stand the Occidental plane-trees,
Stand the ancient sycamores.
Lines To R. L.
© Henry Timrod
That which we are and shall be is made up
Of what we have been. On the autumn leaf
The Pumpkin
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Oh, greenly and fair in the lands of the sun,
The vines of the gourd and the rich melon run,
And the rock and the tree and the cottage enfold,
With broad leaves all greenness and blossoms all gold,
