Love poems
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Roads
© Amy Lowell
I know a country laced with roads,
They join the hills and they span the brooks,
They weave like a shuttle between broad fields,
And slide discreetly through hidden nooks.
Patterns
© Amy Lowell
I walk down the garden paths,
And all the daffodils
Are blowing, and the bright blue squills.
I walk down the patterned garden-paths
Before the Altar
© Amy Lowell
Before the Altar, bowed, he stands
With empty hands;
Upon it perfumed offerings burn
Wreathing with smoke the sacrificial urn.
Summer
© Amy Lowell
Some men there are who find in nature all
Their inspiration, hers the sympathy
Which spurs them on to any great endeavor,
To them the fields and woods are closest friends,
A Fairy Tale
© Amy Lowell
On winter nights beside the nursery fire
We read the fairy tale, while glowing coals
Builded its pictures. There before our eyes
We saw the vaulted hall of traceried stone
Voluntary
© Robert Louis Stevenson
HERE in the quiet eve
My thankful eyes receive
The quiet light.
I see the trees stand fair
To Willie and Henrietta
© Robert Louis Stevenson
If two may read aright
These rhymes of old delight
And house and garden play,
You too, my cousins, and you only, may.
To My Mother
© Robert Louis Stevenson
You too, my mother, read my rhymes
For love of unforgotten times,
And you may chance to hear once more
The little feet along the floor.
To Mrs. Macmarland
© Robert Louis Stevenson
IN Schnee der Alpen - so it runs
To those divine accords - and here
We dwell in Alpine snows and suns,
A motley crew, for half the year:
To Miss Cornish
© Robert Louis Stevenson
THEY tell me, lady, that to-day
On that unknown Australian strand -
Some time ago, so far away -
Another lady joined the band.
To Madame Garschine
© Robert Louis Stevenson
WHAT is the face, the fairest face, till Care,
Till Care the graver - Care with cunning hand,
Etches content thereon and makes it fair,
Or constancy, and love, and makes it grand?
To Friends At Home
© Robert Louis Stevenson
TO friends at home, the lone, the admired, the lost
The gracious old, the lovely young, to May
The fair, December the beloved,
These from my blue horizon and green isles,
These from this pinnacle of distances I,
The unforgetful, dedicate.
To All That Love The Far And Blue
© Robert Louis Stevenson
TO all that love the far and blue:
Whether, from dawn to eve, on foot
The fleeing corners ye pursue,
Nor weary of the vain pursuit;
Though Deep Indifference Should Drowse
© Robert Louis Stevenson
THOUGH deep indifference should drowse
The sluggish life beneath my brows,
And all the external things I see
Grow snow-showers in the street to me,
Yet inmost in my stormy sense
Thy looks shall be an influence.
The Vagabond
© Robert Louis Stevenson
Give to me the life I love,
Let the lave go by me,
Give the jolly heaven above
And the byway nigh me.
The Unseen Playmate
© Robert Louis Stevenson
When children are playing alone on the green,
In comes the playmate that never was seen.
When children are happy and lonely and good,
The Friend of the Children comes out of the wood.
The Relic Taken, What Avails The Shrine?
© Robert Louis Stevenson
THE relic taken, what avails the shrine?
The locket, pictureless? O heart of mine,
Art thou not worse than that,
Still warm, a vacant nest where love once sat?
The Piper
© Robert Louis Stevenson
AGAIN I hear you piping, for I know the tune so well, -
You rouse the heart to wander and be free,
Tho' where you learned your music, not the God of song can tell,
For you pipe the open highway and the sea.
The Moon
© Robert Louis Stevenson
The moon has a face like the clock in the hall;
She shines on thieves on the garden wall,
On streets and fields and harbour quays,
And birdies asleep in the forks of the trees.
The Little Land
© Robert Louis Stevenson
When at home alone I sit
And am very tired of it,
I have just to shut my eyes
To go sailing through the skies--
