Love poems
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The Old Cumberland Beggar
© William Wordsworth
. I saw an aged Beggar in my walk;
And he was seated, by the highway side,
The Long Room
© Madison Julius Cawein
HE found the long room as it was of old,
Glimmering with sunset's gold;
That made the tapestries seem full of eyes
Strange with a wild surmise:
Below Her Window
© Robert Fuller Murray
Where she sleeps, no moonlight shines
No pale beam unbidden creeps.
Darkest shade the place enshrines
Where she sleeps.
A Spirit's Return
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Thou knewest me not in life's fresh vernal morn -
I would thou hadst! - for then my heart on thine
Had poured a worthier love; now, all o'erworn
By its deep thirst for something too divine,
It hath but fitful music to bestow,
Echoes of harp-strings broken long ago.
Written For My Son
© Mary Barber
When Athens was for Arts and Arms renown'd,
Olympic Wreaths uncommon Merit crown'd.
These slight Distinctions from the Learn'd and Wise,
Convey'd eternal Honour with the Prize:
'Twas this, the gen'rous Love of Fame inspir'd,
And Grecian Breasts with noblest Ardor fir'd.
Queen Mab: Part II.
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
If solitude hath ever led thy steps
To the wild ocean's echoing shore,
A Poem Written By Sir Henry Wotton In His Youth
© Sir Henry Wotton
O Faithless World, & thy more faithless part, a Woman's heart!
The true Shop of variety, where sits nothing but fits
A Sonnet of Battle
© William Gay
RELUCTANT Morn, whose meagre radiance lies
With doubtful glimmer on the farthest hills,
Maha-Bharata, The Epic Of Ancient India - Book IV - Dyuta - (The Fatal Dice)
© Romesh Chunder Dutt
The madness increased, and Yudhishthir staked his brothers, and then
himself, and then the fair Draupadi, and lost! And thus the Emperor
of Indra-prastha and his family were deprived of every possession
on earth, and became the bond-slaves of Duryodhan. The old king
Dhrita-rashtra released them from actual slavery, but the five
brothers retired to forests as homeless exiles.
Porphyrion
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Yet into vacancy the troubled heart
Brings its own fullness: and Porphyrion found
The void a prison, and in the silence chains.
I Mustn't Forget
© Edgar Albert Guest
I mustn't forget that I'm gettin' old,
That's the worst thing ever a man can do.
The After-Echo
© Henry Van Dyke
How long the echoes love to play
Around the shore of silence, as a wave
The Conquerors Grave
© William Cullen Bryant
WITHIN this lowly grave a Conqueror lies,
And yet the monument proclaims it not,
St. Ignatius Loyola At The Chapel Of Our Lady Of Montserrat
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Tis midnight, and solemn darkness broods
In a lonely, sacred fane
Violets
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Violets, in what pleasant earth you grew
I know not, nor what heavenly moisture stole
To tincture in your petals such dim blue
As seems a pure June midnight's scented soul:
The Warrior's Return
© Amelia Opie
Sir Walter returned from the far Holy Land,
And a blood-tinctured falchion he bore;
But such precious blood as now darkened his sword
Had never distained it before.
Spring Came In
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
SPRING came in with a red-wing's feather
And yellow clumps of the wild marshmallow--
O happy bird, can you tell me whether
In distant France they have April weather?
And little pools that are sunny and shallow?
An Insincere Wish Addressed to a Beggar
© Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
We are not near enough to love,
I can but pity all your woe;
For wealth has lifted me above,
And falsehood set you down below.
