Love poems

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To M.L. Gray,

© Eugene Field

Come, dear old friend, and with us twain
  To calm Digentian groves repair;
The turtle coos his sweet refrain
  And posies are a-blooming there;
And there the romping Sabine girls
Bind myrtle in their lustrous curls.

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Missing

© Katharine Tynan

He is "Missing," and forlorn
  Drag her days in grief and pain.
Every morn a hope is born,
  Only to be lost again.

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Rural Elegance, An Ode to the Late Duchess of Somerset

© William Shenstone

While orient skies restore the day,
And dew-drops catch the lucid ray;
Amid the sprightly scenes of morn
Will aught the Muse inspire?
Oh! peace to yonder clamorous horn
That drowns the sacred lyre!

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The Two Dreams

© Algernon Charles Swinburne

I WILL that if I say a heavy thing

Your tongues forgive me; seeing ye know that spring

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On Raglan Road

© Patrick Kavanagh

On Raglan Road on an autumn day I met her first and knew
That her dark hair would weave a snare that I might one day rue;
I saw the danger, yet I walked along the enchanted way,
And I said, let grief be a fallen leaf at the dawning of the day.

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Beyond The Shadow

© Augusta Davies Webster

SOME quick kind tears, some easy sorrow,
And then 'tis past.
'Twas sad; yet sadness has its morrow;
Blue skies succeed skies overcast:
Why should grief last?

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King David

© Stephen Vincent Benet

David sang to his hook-nosed harp:
"The Lord God is a jealous God!
His violent vengeance is swift and sharp!
And the Lord is King above all gods!

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A Border Ballad

© Paul Laurence Dunbar

OH, I haven't got long to live, for we all

Die soon, e'en those who live longest;

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The Glen of Arrawatta

© Henry Kendall

A tale of Love and Death. And shall I say
A tale of love in death—for all the patient eyes
That gathered darkness, watching for a son
And brother, never dreaming of the fate—
The fearful fate he met alone, unknown,
Within the ruthless Australasian wastes?

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British Association, Notes Of The President's Address

© James Clerk Maxwell

In the very beginnings of science, the parsons, who managed things then,

Being handy with hammer and chisel, made gods in the likeness of men;

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The Conjunction Of Jupiter And Venus

© William Cullen Bryant

I would not always reason. The straight path

Wearies us with its never-varying lines,

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Sonnet 78: Oh How The Pleasant Airs

© Sir Philip Sidney

Oh how the pleasnat airs of true love be
Infect'd by those vapors, which arise
From out that noisome gulf, which gaping lies
Between the jaws of hellish Jealousy:

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The Quid Pro Quo; Or The Mistakes

© Jean de La Fontaine

THIS scene just ended, t'other actor came,
Whose prompt arrival much surprised the dame,
For, as a husband, Clidamant had ne'er
Such ardour shown, he seemed beyond his sphere.
The lady to the girl imputed this,
And thought, to hint it, would not be amiss.

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The Forgotten Grave

© Henry Austin Dobson

OUT from the City’s dust and roar,  

You wandered through the open door;  

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Fountain of Never-Ceasing Grace

© Augustus Montague Toplady

Fountain of never ceasing grace,

Thy saints’ exhaustless theme,

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Seeing the Eclipse in Maine by Robert Bly: American Life in Poetry #165 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laurea

© Ted Kooser

In “The Moose,â€? a poem much too long to print here, the late Elizabeth Bishop was able to show a community being created from a group of strangers on a bus who come in contact with a moose on the highway. They watch it together and become one. Here Robert Bly of Minnesota assembles a similar community, around an eclipse. Notice how the experience happens to “we,â€? the group, not just to “me,â€? the poet. Seeing the Eclipse in Maine

It started about noon. On top of Mount Batte,
We were all exclaiming. Someone had a cardboard
And a pin, and we all cried out when the sun
Appeared in tiny form on the notebook cover.

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The Currency Lass

© Roderic Quinn

THEY marshalled her lovers four and four,
A drum at their heads, in the days of old:
O, none could have guessed their hearts were sore;
They marched with such gayness in scarlet and gold.

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"Yes! Thou Art Fair, Yet Be Not Moved"

© William Wordsworth

  YES! thou art fair, yet be not moved
  To scorn the declaration,
  That sometimes I in thee have loved
  My fancy's own creation.

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The Cyclops

© Percy Bysshe Shelley

SILENUS.
ULYSSES.
CHORUS OF SATYRS.
THE CYCLOPS.

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Lispeth

© Rudyard Kipling

Look, you have cast out Love!  What Gods are these
You bid me please?
The Three in One, the One in Three? Not so!
To my own Gods I go.
It may be they shall give me greater ease
Than your cold Christ and tangled Trinities.