Love poems
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The House Of Dust: Part 03: 06:
© Conrad Aiken
Here is the roomwith ghostly walls dissolving
The twilight room in which she called you 'lover';
And the floorless room in which she called you 'friend.'
So many times, in doubt, she ran between them!
Through windy corridors of darkening end.
The Farmer Of Tilsbury Vale
© William Wordsworth
'TIS not for the unfeeling, the falsely refined,
The squeamish in taste, and the narrow of mind,
And the small critic wielding his delicate pen,
That I sing of old Adam, the pride of old men.
Gentilesse
© Geoffrey Chaucer
Vyce may wel be heir to old richesse,
But ther may no man, as men may wel see,
Bequethe his heir his vertuous noblesse
(That is appropred unto no degree
But to the firste fader in magestee,
That maketh hem his heyres that him queme),
Death
© Rabindranath Tagore
O thou the last fulfilment of life,
Death, my death, come and whisper to me!
To A Brown Girl
© Countee Cullen
What if his glance is bold and free,
His mouth the lash of whips?
So should the eyes of lovers be
And so a lovers lips.
Sonnet XII: My Spotless Love
© Samuel Daniel
My spotless love hovers with white wings
About the temple of the proudest frame,
To Chloe Weeping
© Matthew Prior
See, whilst Thou weep'st, fair Cloe, see
The World in Sympathy with Thee.
Prolong the night
© Renee Vivien
Prolong the night, Goddess who sets us aflame!
Hold back from us the golden-sandalled dawn!
Already on the sea the first faint gleam
Of day is coming on.
Bagley Wood
© Lionel Pigot Johnson
Could we but live at will upon this perfect height,
Could we but always keep the passion of this peace,
Could we but face unshamed the look of this pure light,
Could we but win earth's heart, and give desire release:
Then were we all divine, and then were ours by right
These stars, these nightingales, these scents: then shame would cease.
The Ways Are Green
© William Ernest Henley
The ways are green with the gladdening sheen
Of the young year's fairest daughter.
Under The Rose
© Madison Julius Cawein
He told a story to her,
A story old yet new--
And was it of the Faëry Folk
That dance along the dew?
Last Days Of Alice
© Allen Tate
Alice grown lazy, mammoth but not fat,
Declines upon her lost and twilight age;
Above in the dozing leaves the grinning cat
Quivers forever with his abstract rage:
Dum Capitolium Scandet
© Ezra Pound
How many will come after me
singing as well as I sing, none better;
There Will Always Be Something To Do
© Edgar Albert Guest
There will always be something to do, my boy;
There will always be wrongs to right;
Lullaby
© James Whitcomb Riley
The maple strews the embers of its leaves
O'er the laggard swallows nestled 'neath the eaves;
And the moody cricket falters in his cry--Baby-bye!--
And the lid of night is falling o'er the sky--Baby-bye!--
The lid of night is falling o'er the sky!
Napoleon III
© Mary Hannay Foott
His silent spirit from the place
Slid forth unseen; amid the throng
