Love poems
/ page 190 of 1285 /Peter the Piccaninny
© Henry Kendall
I never loved a nigger belle
My tastes are too aesthetic!
The perfume from a gin iswell,
A rather strong emetic.
Almost Over
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
YOU say I should not think upon her now:
But then I have stood beside her listening,
Gotham - Book II
© Charles Churchill
How much mistaken are the men who think
That all who will, without restraint may drink,
Sonnet 94: Grief Find The Words
© Sir Philip Sidney
Grief find the words, for thou hast made my brain
So dark with misty vapors, which arise
From out thy heavy mold, that inbent eyes
Can scarce discern the shape of mine own pain.
A Song Of Love
© Virna Sheard
Love reckons not by time--its May days of delight
Are swifter than the falling stars that pass beyond our sight.
Epithalamium
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
O joy! O fear! what will be done
In the absence of the sun?
Come along!
Love's Suicide
© Edith Nesbit
Le jeu ne vaut pas la chandelle.
THIS treasure of love, these passion-flowers,
Ellen Terry In The Merchant Of Venice
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
As there she lives and moves upon the scene,
So lived and moved this radiant womanhood
Fragment: Love The Universe To-Day
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
And who feels discord now or sorrow?
Love is the universe to-day--
These are the slaves of dim to-morrow,
Darkening Life's labyrinthine way.
Samuel
© Edgar Lee Masters
Hear then of brawn-armed Samuel,
Fair-haired and heavy-jaw;
For he feared not the gates of hell,
Spiked 'round with heaven's law.
To A Departed Spirit
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
From the bright stars, or from the viewless air,
Or from some world unreached by human thought,
Spirit, sweet spirit! if thy home be there,
And if thy visions with the past be fraught,
Answer me, answer me!
The Shower (I)
© Henry Vaughan
'TWAS so ; I saw thy birth. That drowsy lake
From her faint bosom breath'd thee, the disease
Of her sick waters and infectious ease.
But now at even,
Too gross for heaven,
Thou fall'st in tears, and weep'st for thy mistake.
An April Love
© Alfred Austin
Nay, be not June, nor yet December, dear,
But April always, as I find thee now:
For A Picture
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
That nose is out of drawing. With a gasp,
She pants upon the passionate lips that ache
With the red drain of her own mouth, and make
A monochord of colour. Like an asp,
Against The Love Of Great Ones
© Richard Lovelace
How il doth majesty injoy
The bow and gaity oth' boy,
As if the purple-roabe should sit,
And sentence give ith' chayr of wit.
Going Home
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
UNDER the young moon's slender shield
With the wind's cool lips on mine,
I went home from the Rabitty Field
As the clocks were striking nine.
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part II: To Juliet: XXXIII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
REMINDING HER OF A PROMISE
Oh, Juliet, we have quarrelled with our fate,
And fate has struck us. Wherefore do we cry?
We prayed for liberty, and now too late
Letter From Under The Sea
© Nizar Qabbani
I desire you...so teach me not to desire
teach me...
how to cut the roots of your love from the depths
teach me...
how tears may die in the eyes
and love may commit suicide