Love poems
/ page 26 of 1285 /
The Old Sampler
© Margaret Elizabeth Sangster
Out of the way, in a corner Of our dear old attic room,Where bunches of herbs from the hillside Shake ever a faint perfume,An oaken chest is standing, With hasp and padlock and key,Strong as the hands that made it On the other side of the sea
The Mirror for Magistrates: The Induction
© Thomas Sackville
The wrathful winter, 'proaching on apace,With blustering blasts had all ybar'd the treen,And old Saturnus, with his frosty face,With chilling cold had pierc'd the tender green;The mantles rent, wherein enwrapped been The gladsome groves that now lay overthrown, The tapets torn, and every bloom down blown
Song, Written at Sea
© Charles Sackville
To all you ladies now at land We men at sea indite;But first would have you understand How hard it is to write:The Muses now, and Neptune too,We must implore to write to you-- With a fa, la, la, la, la!
For though the Muses should prove kind, And fill our empty brain,Yet if rough Neptune rouse the wind To wave the azure main,Our paper, pen, and ink, and we,Roll up and down our ships at sea-- With a fa, la, la, la, la!
Then if we write not by each post, Think not we are unkind;Nor yet conclude our ships are lost By Dutchmen, or by wind:Our tears we'll send a speedier way,The tide shall bring 'em twice a day-- With a fa, la, la, la, la!
The King with wonder and surprise Will swear the seas grow bold
There is Nothing Like a Dame—
© Rowley Rosemarie
There may be nothing like me, but I assure youthe world would have gone to hell but for organised sex-if boys and girls were left to nature's provenance,a person like me would be nowhere at all.
Queen of Hearts
© Rowley Rosemarie
Hers, from childhood the bitter pain of tearsDreamed a peep-shy wedding to a PrinceHer one longing to be cherished through the yearsBy a lover, husband, brother: not since
Buried Life, The
© Matthew Arnold
Ah! well for us, if even we,
Even for a moment, can get free
Our heart, and have our lips unchain'd;
For that which seals them hath been deep-ordain'd!
The Humours of the Seminarian's House
© Rowley Rosemarie
Not in our fall, O Lord, but in Your graceIs living done each day instead of dying;A portion of our day makes up time's raceAnd absolute grandeur is signified by trying.
Flight into Reality
© Rowley Rosemarie
Dedicated to the memory of my best friend Georgina, (1942-74)and to her husband Alex Burns and their childrenNulles laides amours ne belles prison -Lord Herbert of Cherbury
Beauty's Helicon
© Rowley Rosemarie
I've had practice with sleeping with those who do not please me,I've had oceans of despair in my cup of pain,I do not try to please who do not please me,They cause storms, and trigger fissures in the brain,
So when I know my true love by his hand,I'll set in stone my long list of his beauty,Release into the air the demons of that bandWho say the ugly are forgetful of their duty,
To live a life of honour, but not lust,To be the clerk of passion, and its ways,To write the bibliographies in dust,To caption beauty in the prison of their days,
As my true love and I practice the rationOf beauty, that makes fidelity a passion
The House of Life: The Sonnet
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
A Sonnet is a moment's monument, Memorial from the Soul's eternity To one dead deathless hour
The Ballad of Dead Ladies
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Tell me now in what hidden way is Lady Flora the lovely Roman?Where's Hipparchia, and where is Thais, Neither of them the fairer woman? Where is Echo, beheld of no man,Only heard on river and mere, -- She whose beauty was more than human?
After Communion
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
Why should I call Thee Lord, Who art my God? Why should I call Thee Friend, Who are my Love? Or King, Who art my very Spouse above?Or call Thy sceptre on my heart Thy rod? Lo now Thy banner over me is love,All heaven flies open to me at Thy nod:For Thou hast lit Thy flame in me a clod, Made me a nest for dwelling of Thy Dove
Tristesse
© Robertson James
Lost is my strength, my mirth, the joy intense Of very life, the comrades and the zest; -- All, even to my pride, that unsuppressedHad wrought my spirit to self-confidence
On Mixed Pupils
© Robertson James
I wonder, to look on some commonplace Crass carcase in calm cow-hide,What on earth, if one could see through the case, The works are doing inside!
Cambridge
© Robertson James
Two fitful lamps in the silent court Scarce vigour enough can musterTo throw on the nearest ivy-leaves A faint and sickly lustre
In the Hand of the Wind
© Roberts Theodore Goodridge
Lord, I am passing in the wind's lean hand: And now, of all my glory what will stand?--The echo of a love song, like thin smoke Blown down the valleys of a kindly land.
