Love poems
/ page 170 of 1285 /Earth
© John Hall Wheelock
Yea, and this, my poem, too,
Is part of her as dust and dew,
Wherein herself she doth declare
Through my lips, and say her prayer.
Sonnet on Reading Burns' Mountain Daisy
© Helen Maria Williams
While soon the "garden's flaunting flowers" decay,
And, scatter'd on the earth, neglected lie,
Books
© Zora Bernice May Cross
Oh! Bury me in books when I am dead,
Fair quarto leaves of ivory and gold,
The Story Of Glaucus The Thessalian
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
Up to the deep founts of the tenderest eyes
That e'er have shone, I think, since in some dell
Of Argos and enchanted Thessaly,
The poet, from whose heart-lit brain it came,
Murmured this record unto her he loved?
Recollection of the Arabian Nights
© Alfred Tennyson
WHEN the breeze of a joyful dawn blew free
In the silken sail of infancy,
Il Cinque Maggio (English)
© Alessandro Manzoni
HE was -- As motionless as lay,
First mingled with the dead,
The Abencerrage : Canto I.
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Lonely and still are now thy marble halls,
Thou fair Alhambra! there the feast is o'er;
And with the murmur of thy fountain-falls,
Blend the wild tones of minstrelsy no more.
Regret
© Celia Thaxter
SOFTLY Death touched her and she passed away
Out of this glad, bright world she made more fair,
The Refuge, River, And Rock Of The Church
© John Newton
He who on earth as man was known,
And bore our sins and pains;
Now, seated on th' eternal throne,
The God of glory reigns.
The Confirmation
© Edwin Muir
Yes, yours, my love, is the right human face.
I in my mind had waited for this long,
Song VI
© Mikolaj Sep Szarzynski
Our almighty Lord, eternal, unfathomed,
To Thee Cherubin proclaim "Holy, holy, holy!"
To Thee too, Seraph, true love's pure brand;
A fiery firmament tho marks Thy glory's stead.
Drought
© Flexmore Hudson
Midsummer noon: and the timbered walls
start in the heat;
and the children sag listlessly over the desks,
with bloodless faces oozing sweat
sipped by the stinging flies.
Good-Night In War-Time
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
(To Alexander Smith)
The stars we saw arise are high above,
The Epitaph In Form Of A Ballad Which Villon Made For Himself And His Comrades, Expecting To Be Hang
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
Prince Jesus, that of all art lord and head,
Keep us, that hell be not our bitter bed;
We have nought to do in such a master's hall.
Be not ye therefore of our fellowhead,
But pray to God that he forgive us all.
To My Old Readers
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
Nor be forgotten our ANNEXES twain,
Nor HE, the owner of the squinting brain,
Which, while its curious fancies we pursue,
Oft makes us question, "Are we crack-brained too?"
Runic Verses
© George Borrow
O the force of Runic verses,
O the mighty strength of song
Cannot baffle all the curses
Which to mortal state belong.
At The Gill-Nets
© Duncan Campbell Scott
Tug at the net,
Haul at the net,
Strip off the quivering fish;
Hid in the mist
The winds whist,
Is like my heart's wish.
On A Good Legg And Foot
© William Strode
If Hercules tall stature might bee guest
But by his thumbe, wherby to make the rest