Love poems
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Go Where Glory Waits Thee
© Thomas Moore
Go where glory waits thee,
But while fame elates thee,
Oh! still remember me.
When the praise thou meetest
Fly Not Yet
© Thomas Moore
Fly not yet, 'tis just the hour,
When pleasure, like the midnight flower
That scorns the eye of vulgar light,
Begins to bloom for sons of night,
Fairest! Put on a While
© Thomas Moore
Fairest! put on a while
These pinions of light I bring thee,
And o'er thy own green isle
In fancy let me wing thee.
Echo
© Thomas Moore
How sweet the answer Echo makes
To music at night,
When, roused by lute or horn, she wakes,
And far away, o'er lawns and lakes,
Goes answering light.
Drink To Her
© Thomas Moore
Drink to her who long
Hath waked the poet's sigh,
The girl who gave to song
What gold could never buy.
Did Not
© Thomas Moore
'Twas a new feeling - something more
Than we had dared to own before,
Which then we hid not;
We saw it in each other's eye,
And wished, in every half-breathed sigh,
To speak, but did not.
Dialogue Between a Sovereign and a One-Pound Note
© Thomas Moore
Said a Sov'reign to a Note,
In the pocket of my coat,
Where they met in a neat purse of leather,
"How happens it, I prithee,
That though I'm wedded with thee,
Fair Pound, we can never live together?
Desmond's Song
© Thomas Moore
By the Feal's wave benighted,
No star in the skies,
To thy door by Love lighted,
I first saw those eyes.
Dear Harp of my Country
© Thomas Moore
Dear Harp of my Country! in darkness I found thee,
The cold chain of Silence had hung o'er thee long.
When proudly, my own Island Harp, I unbound thee,
And gave all thy chords to light, freedom, and song.
Come, Send Round the Wine
© Thomas Moore
Come, send round the wine, and leave points of belief
To simpleton sages and reasoning fools;
This moment's a flower too fair and brief
To be wither'd and stain'd by the dust of the schools.
Come, Rest in this Bosom
© Thomas Moore
Come, rest in this bosom, my own stricken deer,
Though the herd have fled from thee, thy home is still here;
Here still is the smile, that no cloud can o'ercast,
And a heart and a hand all thy own to the last.
Come O'er the Sea
© Thomas Moore
Come o'er the sea,
Maiden with me,
Mine through sunshine, storm, and snows;
Seasons may roll,
By That Lake, Whose Gloomy Shore
© Thomas Moore
By that Lake, whose gloomy shore
Sky-lark never warbles o'er,
Where the cliff hangs high and steep,
Young Saint Kevin stole to sleep.
Believe Me, If All Those Endearing Young Charms
© Thomas Moore
Believe me, if all those endearing young charms,
Which I gaze on so fondly to-day,
Were to change by to-morrow, and fleet in my arms,
Live fairy-gifts fading away,
Sordello: Book the Fifth
© Robert Browning
"Embrace him, madman!" Palma cried,
Who through the laugh saw sweat-drops burst apace,
And his lips blanching: he did not embrace
Sordello, but he laid Sordello's hand
On his own eyes, mouth, forehead.
The Abortion
© Anne Sexton
Just as the earth puckered its mouth,
each bud puffing out from its knot,
I changed my shoes, and then drove south.
At the Mid Hour of Night
© Thomas Moore
At the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping, I fly
To the lone vale we loved, when life shone warm in thine eye;
And I think oft, if spirits can steal from the regions of air,
To revisit past scenes of delight, thou wilt come to me there,
And tell me our love is remember'd, even in the sky.
As Slow Our Ship
© Thomas Moore
As slow our ship her foamy track
Against the wind was cleaving,
Her trembling pennant still look'd back
To that dear isle 'twas leaving.
Alone in Crowds to Wander On
© Thomas Moore
Alone in crowds to wander on,
And feel that all the charm is gone
Which voices dear and eyes beloved
Shed round us once, where'er we roved --
Even-song
© George Herbert
Blest be the God of love,
Who gave me eyes, and light, and power this day,
Both to be busy, and to play.
But much more blest be God above,
