Love poems

/ page 13 of 1285 /

Order by :

1
. . .
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
. . .
1285

The Prelude: Book 2: School-time (Continued)

© William Wordsworth

Thus far, O Friend! have we, though leaving muchUnvisited, endeavour'd to retraceMy life through its first years, and measured backThe way I travell'd when I first beganTo love the woods and fields; the passion yetWas in its birth, sustain'd, as might befal,By nourishment that came unsought, for still,From week to week, from month to month, we liv'dA round of tumult: duly were our gamesProlong'd in summer till the day-light fail'd;No chair remain'd before the doors, the benchAnd threshold steps were empty; fast asleepThe Labourer, and the old Man who had sate,A later lingerer, yet the revelryContinued, and the loud uproar: at last,When all the ground was dark, and the huge cloudsWere edged with twinkling stars, to bed we went,With weary joints, and with a beating mind

11. Song-Here’s to thy health, my bonie lass

© Robert Burns

HERE’S to thy health, my bonie lass,

Gude nicht and joy be wi’ thee;

The Prelude: Book 1: Childhood and School-time

© William Wordsworth

--Was it for thisThat one, the fairest of all Rivers, lov'dTo blend his murmurs with my Nurse's song,And from his alder shades and rocky falls,And from his fords and shallows, sent a voiceThat flow'd along my dreams? For this, didst Thou,O Derwent! travelling over the green PlainsNear my 'sweet Birthplace', didst thou, beauteous StreamMake ceaseless music through the night and dayWhich with its steady cadence, temperingOur human waywardness, compos'd my thoughtsTo more than infant softness, giving me,Among the fretful dwellings of mankind,A knowledge, a dim earnest, of the calmThat Nature breathes among the hills and groves

Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood

© William Wordsworth

The child is father of the man;And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety. (Wordsworth, "My Heart Leaps Up")

1. Song-Handsome Nell

© Robert Burns

O ONCE I lov’d a bonie lass,
Ay, and I love her still;
And whilst that virtue warms my breast,
I’ll love my handsome Nell.

Lines Composed a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey, On Revisiting the Banks of the Wye during a Tour. July 13, 1798

© William Wordsworth

Five years have past; five summers, with the lengthOf five long winters! and again I hearThese waters, rolling from their mountain-springsWith a soft inland murmur

The French Revolution as It Appeared to Enthusiasts at Its Commencement

© William Wordsworth

Oh! pleasant exercise of hope and joy!For mighty were the auxiliars which then stoodUpon our side, we who were strong in love!Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive,But to be young was very heaven!--Oh! times,In which the meagre, stale, forbidding waysOf custom, law, and statute, took at onceThe attraction of a country in romance!When Reason seemed the most to assert her rights,When most intent on making of herselfA prime Enchantress--to assist the workWhich then was going forward in her name!Not favoured spots alone, but the whole earth,The beauty wore of promise, that which sets(As at some moment might not be unfeltAmong the bowers of paradise itself )The budding rose above the rose full blown

Elegiac Stanzas Suggested by a Picture of Peele Castle in a Storm, Painted by Sir George Beaumont

© William Wordsworth

I was thy neighbour once, thou rugged Pile!Four summer weeks I dwelt in sight of thee:I saw thee every day; and all the whileThy Form was sleeping on a glassy sea.

To a Vagabond

© Woodrow Constance

But half of me is woman grown; The other half is child

The Suburbs

© Humbert Wolfe

Because they are so many and the same,The little houses row on weary row;Because they are so loveless and so lameIt were a bitter thing to tell them so

The Lady in the White Dress, Whom I Helped Into the Omnibus

© Willis Nathaniel Parker

I know her not! Her hand has been in mine,And the warm pressure of her taper armHas thrill'd upon my fingers, and the hemOf her white dress has lain upon my feet,Till my hush'd pulse, by the caressing folds,Was kindled to a fever! I, to her,Am but the undistinguishable leafBlown by upon the breeze -- yet I have sat,And in the blue depths of her stainless eyes,(Close as a lover in his hour of bliss,And steadfastly as look the twin stars downInto unfathomable wells,) have gazed!And I have felt from out its gate of pearlHer warm breath on my cheek, and while she satDreaming away the moments, I have triedTo count the long dark lashes in the fringeOf her bewildering eyes! The kerchief sweetThat enviably visits her red lipHas slumber'd, while she held it, on my knee, --And her small foot has crept between mine own --And yet, she knows me not! Now, thanks to heavenFor blessings chainless in the rich man's keeping --Wealth that the miser cannot hide away!Buy, if they will, the invaluable flower --They cannot store its fragrance from the breeze!Wear, if they will, the costliest gem of Ind --It pours its light on every passing eye!And he who on this beauty sets his name --Who dreams, perhaps, that for his use aloneSuch loveliness was first of angels born --Tell him, oh whisperer at his dreaming ear,That I too, in her beauty, sun my eye,And, unrebuked, may worship her in song --Tell him that heaven, along our darkling way,Hath set bright lamps with loveliness alight --And all may in their guiding beams rejoice;But he -- as 'twere a watcher by a lamp --Guards but this bright one's shining

January 1, 1829

© Willis Nathaniel Parker

Winter is come again

City Lyrics

© Willis Nathaniel Parker

Argument

Love and Fame and Death

© Charles Bukowski

the way to end a poem
like this
is to become suddenly
quiet.

Will and Testament

The Aucthour (though loth to leave the Citie)vpon her Friendes procurement, is constrainedto departe: wherfore (she fayneth as she would die)and maketh her WYLL and Testæment, as foloweth:With large Legacies of such Goods and richeswhich she moste aboundantly hath left behind her:and therof maketh LONDON sole executor to seher Legacies performed