Love poems
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In Response
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
SUCH kindness! the scowl of a cynic would soften,
His pulse beat its way to some eloquent words,
Alas! my poor accents have echoed too often,
Like that Pinafore music you've some of you heard.
The Ancient Banner
© Anonymous
In boundless mercy, the Redeemer left,
The bosom of his Father, and assumed
Bound
© Aline Murray Kilmer
IF I had loved you, soon, ah, soon I had lost you.
Had I been kind you had kissed me and gone your faithless way.
The kiss that I would not give is the kiss that your lips are holding:
Now you are mine forever, because of all I have cost you.
How Many, How Much
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
How many slams in an old screen door?
Depends how loud you shut it.
How many slices in a bread?
Depends how thin you cut it.
To Frederick Henry Hedge
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
FIT emblem for the altar's side,
And him who serves its daily need,
The stay, the solace, and the guide
Of mortal men, whate'er his creed!
Sonnet VII "Grief Dies Like Joy; the Tears Upon My Cheek"
© Henry Timrod
Grief dies like joy; the tears upon my cheek
Will disappear like dew. Dear God! I know
Shelley's Centenary
© William Watson
Within a narrow span of time,
Three princes of the realm of rhyme,
At height of youth or manhood's prime,
From earth took wing,
To join the fellowship sublime
Who, dead, yet sing.
Growth
© Ernest Christopher Dowson
I watched the glory of her childhood change,
Half-sorrowful to find the child I knew,
(Loved long ago in lily-time),
Become a maid, mysterious and strange,
With fair, pure eyes - dear eyes, but not the eyes I knew
Of old, in the olden time!
Twenty-Four Hokku On A Modern Theme
© Amy Lowell
Again the larkspur,
Heavenly blue in my garden.
They, at least, unchanged.
Indian Summer
© Archibald Lampman
The old grey year is near his term in sooth,
And now with backward eye and soft-laid palm
Nonpareil
© Matthew Prior
Let others from the Town retire,
And in the fields seek new delight;
My Phillis does such joys inspire,
No other objects please my sight.
George Rolleston
© George MacDonald
Dead art thou? No more dead than was the maid
Over whose couch the saving God did stand-
"She is not dead but sleepeth," said,
And took her by the hand!
The Secret Draught of Wine
© Shams al-Din Hafiz
Like Hafiz, drain the goblet cheerfully
While minstrels touch the lute and sweetly sing,
For all that makes thy heart rejoice in thee
Hangs of Life's single, slender, silken string.
Kismet
© Jean Ingelow
Into the rock the road is cut full deep,
At its low ledges village children play,
From its high rifts fountains of leafage weep,
And silvery birches sway.
Cricket On The Hearth
© Norman Rowland Gale
When red-nosed Winter takes the road,
An icicle his walking-stick,
No Room For Hate
© Edgar Albert Guest
We have room for the man with an honest dream,
With his heart on fire and his eyes agleam;
We have room for the man with a purpose true,
Who comes to our shores to start life anew,
But we haven't an inch of space for him
Who comes to plot against life and limb.
