Love poems
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To A Friend
© Joseph Rodman Drake
YES, faint was my applause and cold my praise,
Though soul was glowing in each polished line;
A Love By The Sea
© William Ernest Henley
Out of the starless night that covers me,
(O tribulation of the wind that rolls!)
Black as the cloud of some tremendous spell,
The susurration of the sighing sea
Sounds like the sobbing whisper of two souls
That tremble in a passion of farewell.
Maternal Grief
© William Wordsworth
DEPARTED Child! I could forget thee once
Though at my bosom nursed; this woeful gain
Thy dissolution brings, that in my soul
Is present and perpetually abides
The Necessity Of SelfAbasement
© William Cowper
Source of love, my brighter sun,
Thou alone my comfort art;
See, my race is almost run;
Hast thou left this trembling heart?
Like Coins, November by Elizabeth Klise von Zerneck : American Life in Poetry #241 Ted Kooser, U.S.
© Ted Kooser
I love poems in which the central metaphors are fresh and original, and here’s a marvelous, coiny description of autumn by Elizabeth Klise von Zerneck, who lives in Illinois.
Like Coins, November
We drove past late fall fields as flat and cold
Lara. A Tale
© George Gordon Byron
Proud Otho on the instant, reddening, threw
His glove on earth, and forth his sabre flew.
"The last alternative befits me best,
And thus I answer for mine absent guest."
Tu mettrais l'univers entier dans ta ruelle (You Would Take The Whole World To Bed With You)
© Charles Baudelaire
Tu mettrais l'univers entier dans ta ruelle,
Femme impure! L'ennui rend ton âme cruelle.
Pour exercer tes dents à ce jeu singulier,
Il te faut chaque jour un coeur au râtelier.
Spring On Mattagmi
© Duncan Campbell Scott
Far in the east the rain-clouds sweep and harry,
Down the long haggard hills, formless and low,
The Mountain Of The Lovers
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
I.
LOVE scorns degrees! the low he lifteth high,
The high he draweth down to that fair plain
Whereon, in his divine equality,
Our Souls Have Touched Each Other
© Mathilde Blind
Our souls have touched each other,
Two fountains from one jet;
Like children of one mother
Our leaping thoughts have met.
Shakespeare
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
"Who claims our Shakespeare from that realm unknown,
Beyond the storm-vexed islands of the deep,
Where Genoa's roving mariner was blown?
Her twofold Saint's-day let our England keep;
Shall warring aliens share her holy task?"
The Old World echoes ask.
From North Wales: To The Mother
© George MacDonald
When the summer gave us a longer day,
And the leaves were thickest, I went away:
Like an isle, through dark clouds, of the infinite blue,
Was that summer-ramble from London and you.
After A Lecture On Wordsworth
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
COME, spread your wings, as I spread mine,
And leave the crowded hall
For where the eyes of twilight shine
O'er evening's western wall.
To Lothario
© Amelia Opie
Think not, Lothario, while I view
The bright expression of thy face,
And on thy cheek of crimson hue
Emotion's varying beauties trace,
Bobby's Pocket
© Carolyn Wells
Our Bobby is a little boy, of six years old, or so;
And every kind of rubbish in his pocket he will stow.
The Name
© Caroline Norton
THY name was once the magic spell, by which my thoughts were bound,
And burning dreams of light and love were wakened by that sound;
My heart beat quick when stranger tongues, with idle praise or blame,
Awoke its deepest thrill of life, to tremble at that name.
Kennack Sands
© Robert Laurence Binyon
On Kennack Sands the sun
Shines, and the fresh wind blows,
Moulding pale banks anew,
Where the sea--holly grows.
