Love poems
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The Improvisatore, Or, 'John Anderson, My Jo, John'
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Eliza. Ask our friend, the Improvisatore ; here he comes. Kate has a favour
to ask of you, Sir ; it is that you will repeat the ballad [Believe me if
all those endearing young charms.-EHC's ? note] that Mr. ____ sang so
sweetly.
I Told You So
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
I know a little fellow, his name I think is Jo,
But he is seldom called by that-he has a queer nick-name,
Wherever he goes the children cry, "There comes 'I-told-you-so.'"
For that is what he always says in playing any game,
"I told you so! I told you so!
You see I was right when I told you so."
A Streams Singing
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
O HOW beautiful is Morning!
How the sunbeams strike the daisies,
And the kingcups fill the meadow
Like a golden-shielded army
By The Grave Of Henry Timrod
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
WHEN last we parted--thy frail hand in mine--
Above us smiled September's passionless sky,
And touched by fragrant airs, the hillside pine
Thrilled in the mellow sunshine tenderly;
The Doe: A Fragment (From Wandering Willie)
© George Meredith
And-'Yonder look! yoho! yoho!
Nancy is off!' the farmer cried,
A Mountain Gateway
© Bliss William Carman
I know a vale where I would go one day,
When June comes back and all the world once more
Is glad with summer. Deep in shade it lies
A mighty cleft between the bosoming hills,
A cool dim gateway to the mountains' heart.
Lines For An Album
© James Whitcomb Riley
I would not trace the hackneyed phrase
Of shallow words and empty praise,
To Albius Tibullus
© Eugene Field
Not to lament that rival flame
Wherewith the heartless Glycera scorns you,
Nor waste your time in maudlin rhyme,
How many a modern instance warns you!
Baby's Birthday
© Edith Nesbit
BEFORE your life that is to come,
Love stands with eager eyes, that vainly
Seek to discern what gift may fit
The slow unfolding years of it;
And still Time's lips are sealed and dumb,
And still Love sees no future plainly.
By Her White Bed
© James Whitcomb Riley
By her white bed I muse a little space:
She fell asleep--not very long ago,--
Edwin and Angela, A Ballad
© Oliver Goldsmith
'Turn, gentle hermit of the dale,
And guide my lonely way,
To where yon taper cheers the vale
With hospitable ray.
Sleeping And Waking
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
I Had a dream-I lay upon thy breast,
In that sweet place where we lay long ago:
I thought the morning woodbine to and fro
With playful shadows whipped away my rest,
And in my sleep I cried to thee, too blest,
The Idle Shepherd Boys
© William Wordsworth
The valley rings with mirth and joy;
Among the hills the echoes play
Sonnet XLIII: Love and Hope
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Bless love and hope. Full many a withered year
Whirled past us, eddying to its chill doomsday;
The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 2
© Publius Vergilius Maro
ALL were attentive to the godlike man,
When from his lofty couch he thus began:
O Do Not Leave Me
© George MacDonald
O do not leave me, mother, lest I weep;
Till I forget, be near me in that chair.
The mother's presence leads her down to sleep-
Leaves her contented there.
The Story of Prince Agib
© William Schwenck Gilbert
STRIKE the concertina's melancholy string!
Blow the spirit-stirring harp like anything!
Let the piano's martial blast
Rouse the Echoes of the Past,
For of AGIB, PRINCE OF TARTARY, I sing!
