Love poems
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Sweet William's Farewell to Black-ey'd Susan: A Ballad
© John Gay
I.
All in the Downs the fleet was moor'd,
To a Friend
© Mathilde Blind
TO you who dwell withdrawn, above
The world's tumultuous strife,
And, in an atmosphere of love,
Have triumphed over life;
Fairy Days
© William Makepeace Thackeray
Beside the old hall-fireupon my nurse's knee,
Of happy fairy dayswhat tales were told to me!
I thought the world was onceall peopled with princesses,
And my heart would beat to heartheir loves and their distresses:
And many a quiet night,in slumber sweet and deep,
The pretty fairy peoplewould visit me in sleep.
The Meeting
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
SHE flitted by me on the stair--
A moment since I knew not of her.
A Mid-Day Dreamer
© James Weldon Johnson
And I the while lie idly back,
And dream, and dream,
And let them row me where they will
Adown the stream.
Eastern Sunset
© Frances Anne Kemble
'Tis only the nightingale's warbled strain,
That floats through the evening sky:
Dream-Dew
© Edith Nesbit
WHITE bird of love, lie warm upon my breast,
White flower of love, lie cool against my face!
Teach me to dream again a little space
Ere this dream, too, sink earthward with the rest.
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 2. The Student's Tale; The Cobbler of Hagenau
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Outside his door, one afternoon,
This humble votary of the muse
Sat in the narrow strip of shade
By a projecting cornice made,
Mending the Burgomaster's shoes,
And singing a familiar tune:--
Le Flacon (The Perfume Flask)
© Charles Baudelaire
II est de forts parfums pour qui toute matière
Est poreuse. On dirait qu'ils pénètrent le verre.
En ouvrant un coffret venu de l'Orient
Dont la serrure grince et rechigne en criant,
The King's Tragedy James I. Of Scots.20th February 1437
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
I Catherine am a Douglas born,
A name to all Scots dear;
An Oriental Apologue
© James Russell Lowell
Somewhere in India, upon a time,
(Read it not Injah, or you spoil the verse,)
The Oriental Nosegay. By Pickersgill
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
Beautiful language! Love's peculiar, own,
But only to the spring and summer known.
Ah! little marvel in such clime and age
As that of our too earth-bound pilgrimage,
That we should daily hear that love is fled,
And hope grown pale, and lighted feelings dead.
The Saddest Fate
© Anonymous
To touch a broken lute,
To strike a jangled string,
To strive with tones forever mute
The dear old tunes to sing--
What sadder fate could any heart befall?
Alas! dear child, never to sing at all.
Mary's Evening Sigh
© Robert Bloomfield
How bright with pearl the western sky!
How glorious far and wide,
The Double Transformation, A Tale
© Oliver Goldsmith
Secluded from domestic strife,
Jack Book-worm led a college life;
A fellowship at twenty-five
Made him the happiest man alive;
He drank his glass and crack'd his joke,
And freshmen wonder'd as he spoke.
After Work by John Maloney: American Life in Poetry #184 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
I hope it's not just a guy thing, a delight in the trappings of work. I love this poem by John Maloney, of Massachusetts, which gives us a close look behind the windshields of all those pickup trucks we see heading home from work.
After Work
