Love poems
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Almanac Des Bergers -1591
© John Kenyon
Pocula Janus amatet Febrius, algeo clamat;
Martius arva colitAprilis florida prodit
Genesis BK XIX
© Caedmon
(ll. 1217-1224) Then Methuselah held sway among his kinsmen, and
longest of all men enjoyed the pleasures of this world. He begat
a multitude of sons and daughters before his death. And all the
years of Methuselah were nine hundred and seventy winters, and he
died.
Scenes Of The Mind
© Aldous Huxley
I have run where festival was loud
With drum and brass among the crowd
Viva Perpetua
© Archibald Lampman
The night is passing. In a few short hours
I too shall suffer for the name of Christ.
A boundless exaltation lifts my soul!
I know that they who left us, Saturus,
Perpetua, and the other blessed ones,
Await me at the opening gates of heaven.
Her Hair
© James Whitcomb Riley
The beauty of her hair bewilders me--
Pouring adown the brow, its cloven tide
To The Same Flower
© William Wordsworth
PLEASURES newly found are sweet
When they lie about our feet:
February last, my heart
First at sight of thee was glad;
The Missionary - Canto Fifth
© William Lisle Bowles
Three years have passed since a fond husband left
Me and this infant, of his love bereft;
Him I have followed; need I tell thee more,
Cast helpless, friendless, hopeless, on this shore.
FromThe Arabic: An Imitation
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
My faint spirit was sitting in the light
Of thy looks, my love;
It panted for thee like the hind at noon
Maureen
© John Todhunter
O, you plant the pain in my heart with your wistful eyes,
Girl of my choice, Maureen!
Man and his Makers
© Muriel Stuart
1.
I am one of the wind's stories,
I am a fancy of the rain,-
A memory of the high noon's glories,
The hint the sunset had of pain.
The Ghost-Seer
© James Russell Lowell
Ye who, passing graves by night,
Glance not to the left or right,
A Poetical Epistle To Lady Austen
© William Cowper
Dear Anna, -- Between friend and friend,
Prose answers every common end;
Here will I take my rest
© Shams al-Din Hafiz
My lady, that did change this house of mine
Into a heaven when that she dwelt therein,
From head to foot an angel's grace divine
Enwrapped her; pure she was, spotless of sin;
God of Love
© Augustus Montague Toplady
God of love, whose truth and grace
Reach unbounded as the skies,
Hear thy creature's feeble praise,
Let my ev'ning sacrifice
Mount as incense to thy throne,
On the merits of thy Son.
Hymns to the Night : 1
© Novalis
Before all the wondrous shows of the widespread space around him, what living, sentient thing loves not the all-joyous light - with its colors, its rays and undulations, its gentle omnipresence in the form of the wakening Day? The giant-world of the unresting constellations inhales it as the innermost soul of life, and floats dancing in its blue flood - the sparkling, ever-tranquil stone, the thoughtful, imbibing plant, and the wild, burning multiform beast inhales it - but more than all, the lordly stranger with the sense-filled eyes, the swaying walk, and the sweetly closed, melodious lips. Like a king over earthly nature, it rouses every force to countless transformations, binds and unbinds innumerable alliances, hangs its heavenly form around every earthly substance. - Its presence alone reveals the marvelous splendor of the kingdoms of the world.
Aside I turn to the holy, unspeakable, mysterious Night. Afar lies the world - sunk in a deep grave - waste and lonely is its place. In the chords of the bosom blows a deep sadness. I am ready to sink away in drops of dew, and mingle with the ashes. - The distances of memory, the wishes of youth, the dreams of childhood, the brief joys and vain hopes of a whole long life, arise in gray garments, like an evening vapor after the sunset. In other regions the light has pitched its joyous tents. What if it should never return to its children, who wait for it with the faith of innocence?
Two-An'-Six
© Claude McKay
Merry voices chatterin',
Nimble feet dem patterin',
Big an' little, faces gay,
Happy day dis market day.
Christ at Carnival
© Muriel Stuart
Then I heard human accents answering:
"I am a god, made god by all thy prayers;
Wach stone becomes a god by worshipping;
I am a man who loves thee: in thy town
Many have loved thee, I am one of these."
A Renunciation
© Henry King
WE, that did nothing study but the way
To love each other, with which thoughts the day
March days return with their covert light
© Pablo Neruda
March days return with their covert light,
and huge fish swim through the sky,
vague earthly vapours progress in secret,
things slip to silence one by one.
