Love poems
/ page 198 of 1285 /
Epigram IV.
© John Byrom
He is a Sinner, you are pleas'd to say;
Then love him for the sake of Christ, I pray,
If on his gracious Words you place your trust,
-"I came to call the sinner; not the just,"-
Second his Call; which if you will not do,
You'll be the greater sinner of the two.
The Unchanged
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
IF we could salvage Babylon
From times's grim heap of dust and bones;
The Seven Sisters
© William Wordsworth
Or, The Solitude Of Binnorie
SEVEN Daughter had Lord Archibald,
At The Close Of The Canvass
© Ambrose Bierce
'Twas a Venerable Person, whom I met one Sunday morning,
All appareled as a prophet of a melancholy sect;
And in a Jeremiad of objurgatory warning
He lifted up his jodel to the following effect:
Me prove it nowWhoever doubt
© Emily Dickinson
Me prove it nowWhoever doubt
Me stop to prove itnow
Make hastethe Scruple! Death be scant
For Opportunity
At The Funeral Of A Minor Poet
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
[One of the Bearers Soliloquizes:]
. . . Room in your heart for him, O Mother Earth,
Heart Of My Heart
© Madison Julius Cawein
Here where the season turns the land to gold,
Among the fields our feet have known of old,--
Snake
© Padraic Colum
BUT, Snake, you must not come where we abide,
For you would tempt us; we should hear you say:
Fior Di Maggio
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Oh! May sits crowned with hawthorn-flower,
And is Love's month, they say;
And Love's the fruit that is ripened best
By ladies' eyes in May.
I Will Smile No More
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
No, I will smile no more. Love's touch of pleasure
Shall be as tears to me, fair words as gall,
The sun as blackness, friends as a false measure,
And Spring's blithe pageant on this earthly ball,
If it should brag, shall earn from me no praise
But silence only to my end of days.
A New Year's Plaint
© James Whitcomb Riley
In words like weeds, I'll wrap me o'er,
Like coarsest clothes against the cold;
But that large grief which these enfold
Is given in outline and no more.
--TENNYSON.
Here's To Thy Health
© Robert Burns
Here's to thy health, my bonie lass,
Gude nicht and joy be wi' thee;
The Advice
© Charles Sackville
Phyllis, for shame! let us improve
A thousand several ways
These few short minutes stol'n by love
From many tedious days.
A Naughty Little Comet
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
The mother of the comet was a very good old star;
She used to scold her reckless child for venturing out too far.
No Rose That In A Garden Ever Grew
© Edna St. Vincent Millay
No rose that in a garden ever grew,
In Homer's or in Omar's or in mine,
Pharsalia - Book IV: Caesar In Spain. War In The Adriatic Sea. Death Of Curio.
© Marcus Annaeus Lucanus
Should mix with ours, the vanquished. Destiny
Has run for us its course: one boon I beg;
Bid not the conquered conquer in thy train."
The Eld
© Richard Monckton Milnes
Oh! blessèd, blessèd be the Eld,
Its echoes and its shades,--
The tones that from all time outswelled,
The light that never fades;--
To My Venerable Friend, The President Of The Royal Academy
© Washington Allston
From one unused in pomp of words to raise
A courtly monument of empty praise,
