Love poems

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The Waking

© Theodore Roethke

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I have to go.

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To the City of London

© William Dunbar

London, thou art of town{.e}s A per se.
Soveraign of cities, semeliest in sight,
Of high renoun, riches, and royaltie;
Of lordis, barons, and many goodly knyght;

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In Honour of the City of London

© William Dunbar

LONDON, thou art of townes A per se.
Soveraign of cities, seemliest in sight,
Of high renoun, riches and royaltie;
Of lordis, barons, and many a goodly knyght;

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At Corfu

© Norman Dubie

In seventeen hundred, a much hated sultan
visited us twice, finally
dying of headaches in the south harbor.

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The Chronicle Of The Drum

© William Makepeace Thackeray

"'Though Europe against me was arm'd,
 Your chiefs and my people are true;
I still might have struggled with fortune,
 And baffled all Europe with you.

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Stone Shadows

© David St. John

For an entire year she dressed in all the shades
Of ash — the gray of old paper; the deeper,
Almost auburn ash of pencil boxes; the dark, nearly

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Los Angeles, 1954

© David St. John

It was in the old days,
When she used to hang out at a place
Called Club Zombie,
A black cabaret that the police liked

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To Amarantha, That She Would Dishevel Her Hair

© Richard Lovelace

Amarantha, sweet and fair,
Ah, braid no more that shining hair!
As my curious hand or eye
Hovering round thee, let it fly!

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The Scrutiny

© Richard Lovelace

Why should you swear I am forsworn,
Since thine I vowed to be?
Lady, it is already morn,
And 'twas last night I swore to thee
That fond impossibility.

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To Althea, From Prison

© Richard Lovelace

When, like committed linnets, I
With shriller throat shall sing
The sweetness, mercy, majesty,
And glories of my King;
When I shall voice aloud how good

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The Rose

© Richard Lovelace

Sweet serene sky-like flower,
Haste to adorn her bower;
From thy long cloudy bed
Shoot forth thy damask head!

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To Lucasta, Going To The Wars

© Richard Lovelace

Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind,
That from the nunnery
Of thy chaste breasts, and quiet mind,
To war and arms I fly.

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Lucky

© Tony Hoagland

If you are lucky in this life,
you will get to help your enemy
the way I got to help my mother
when she was weakened past the point of saying no.

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The Song of the Borderguard

© Robert Duncan

The man with his lion under the shed of wars
sheds his belief as if he shed tears.
The sound of words waits -
a barbarian host at the borderline of sense.

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For The Anniversary Of My Death

© William Stanley Merwin

Every year without knowing it I have passed the day
When the last fires will wave to me
And the silence will set out
Tireless traveller
Like the beam of a lightless star

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My Friends

© William Stanley Merwin

My friends with names like gloves set out
Bare handed as they have lived
And nobody knows them
It is they that lay the wreaths at the milestones it is their
Cups that are found at the wells
And are then chained up

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Phoebus with Admetus

© George Meredith

NOW the North wind ceases,
The warm South-west awakes;
Swift fly the fleeces,
Thick the blossom-flakes.

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Modern Love XXXVIII: Give to Imagination

© George Meredith

Give to imagination some pure light
In human form to fix it, or you shame
The devils with that hideous human game:
Imagination urging appetite!

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Modern Love XXXVII: Along the Garden Terrace

© George Meredith

Along the garden terrace, under which
A purple valley (lighted at its edge
By smoky torch-flame on the long cloud-ledge
Whereunder dropped the chariot), glimmers rich,

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Modern Love XXXVI: My Lady unto Madam

© George Meredith

My Lady unto Madam makes her bow.
The charm of women is, that even while
You're probed by them for tears, you yet may smile,
Nay, laugh outright, as I have done just now.