Love poems
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The Brothers
© William Wordsworth
"THESE Tourists, heaven preserve us! needs must live
A profitable life: some glance along,
Speranza
© Jean Ingelow
England puts on her purple, and pale, pale
With too much light, the primrose doth but wait
To meet the hyacinth; then bower and dale
Shall lose her and each fairy woodland mate.
April forgets them, for their utmost sum
Of gift was silent, and the birds are come.
You Never Can Tell
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
You never can tell when you send a word,
Like an arrow shot from a bow
By an archer blind, be it cruel or kind,
Just where it may chance to go!
A Song For Old Age
© Madison Julius Cawein
Now nights grow cold and colder,
And North the wild vane swings,
And round each tree and boulder
The driving snow-storm sings--
Come, make my old heart older,
O memory of lost things!
In the wave-strike over unquiet stones
© Pablo Neruda
In the wave-strike over unquiet stones
the brightness bursts and bears the rose
and the ring of water contracts to a cluster
to one drop of azure brine that falls.
After Rain
© Archibald Lampman
For three whole days across the sky,
In sullen packs that loomed and broke,
The Dreamer on the Sea-shore
© Louisa Stuart Costello
What are the dreams of him who may sleep
Where the solemn voice of the troubled deep
To A Billy
© James Lister Cuthbertson
OLD BILLYbattered, brown and black
With many days of camping,
Amy Wentworth
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Her fingers shame the ivory keys
They dance so light along;
The bloom upon her parted lips
Is sweeter than the song.
Event
© Sylvia Plath
How the elements solidify! --
The moonlight, that chalk cliff
In whose rift we lie
The Harpers Story
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
My pretty ladies, mid this Christmas cheer,
Loth though I am to wake a single tear
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part II: To Juliet: XXIX
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
TO HER WHO WOULD COMFORT HIM
I did not ask your pity, dear. Your zeal
I know. It cannot cure me of my woes.
And you, in your sweet happiness, who knows,
W'en I Gits Home
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
It's moughty tiahsome layin' 'roun'
Dis sorrer-laden earfly groun',
An' oftentimes I thinks, thinks I,
'T would be a sweet t'ing des to die,
An' go 'long home.
The Freeborn
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
God made the man and bid him multiply,
Replenish the green earth, nor break the die
Love In A Garden
© Madison Julius Cawein
Between the rose's and the canna's crimson,
Beneath her window in the night I stand;
The jeweled dew hangs little stars, in rims, on
The white moonflowers--each a spirit hand
That points the path to mystic shadowland.
The Lady Of La Garaye - A Threnody
© Caroline Norton
HOW Memory haunts us! When we fain would be
Alone and free,
Uninterrupted by his mournful words,
Faint, indistinct, as are a wind-harp's chords
