Love poems
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Old Man
© Alexander Pushkin
Im not that lover, filled with passion, -
That youth, who left the world amazed:
Marriage
© Mathilde Blind
The Many try, but oh! how few are they
To whom that finest of the arts is given
Which shall teach Love, the rosy runaway,
To bide from bridal Morn to brooding Even.
Yet this--this only--is the narrow way
By which, while yet on earth, we enter heaven.
To A Person Who Wrote Ill, And Spake Worse, Against Me
© Matthew Prior
Lie Philo untouch'd, on my peaceable shelf,
Nor take it amiss that so little I heed thee;
Vergissmeinnicht (Forget-me-not)
© Keith Douglas
Three weeks gone and the combatants gone
returning over the nightmare ground
we found the place again, and found
the soldier sprawling in the sun.
The Slaves Lament
© Robert Burns
It was in sweet Senegal that my foes did me enthrall
For the lands of Virginia-ginia O;
Torn from that lovely shore, and must never see it more,
And alas! I am weary, weary O!
Torn from &c.
The Rosciad
© Charles Churchill
Unknowing and unknown, the hardy Muse
Boldly defies all mean and partial views;
With honest freedom plays the critic's part,
And praises, as she censures, from the heart.
The Touch of Time
© John Le Gay Brereton
Yet what if all your fairness were defaced,
Wilted by passionate whirlwinds, battle-scarred,
Your skin of delicate satin hard and dry?
Still you would be the laughing girl who graced
A gloomy manhood, by forebodings marred,
In the deep wood where still we love to lie.
Lamia. Part II
© John Keats
Love in a hut, with water and a crust,
IsLove, forgive us!cinders, ashes, dust;
What Is Love?
© Ernest Christopher Dowson
What is Love?
Is it a folly,
Is it mirth, or melancholy?
Joys above,
Are there many, or not any?
What is Love?
My Father Holds the Door for Yoko Ono by Christopher Chambers: American Life in Poetry #88 Ted Koose
© Ted Kooser
This wistful poem shows how the familiar and the odd, the real and imaginary, exist side by side. A Midwestern father transforms himself from a staid businessman into a rock-n-roll star, reclaiming a piece of his imaginary youth. In the end, it shows how fragile moments might be recovered to offer a glimpse into our inner lives.
Mary Magdalene At The Door Of Simon The Pharisee.
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
WHY wilt thou cast the roses from thine hair?
Nay, be thou all a rose,wreath, lips, and cheek.
Innocence
© Patrick Kavanagh
But now I am back in her briary arms
The dew of an Indian Summer lies
On bleached potato-stalks
What age am I?
Prayer Before Birth
© Louis MacNeice
I am not yet born; O hear me.
Let not the bloodsucking bat or the rat or the stoat or the
club-footed ghoul come near me.
Little Hands
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Soft little hands that stray and clutch,
Like fern fronds curl and uncurl bold,
Song XIX. - When bright Ophelia treads the green
© William Shenstone
When bright Ophelia treads the green,
In all the pride of dress and mien;
Averse to freedom, mirth and play,
The lofty rival of the day;
Methinks, to my enchanted eye,
The lilies droop, the roses die.
To Her Grace The Dutchess Of Portland
© Mary Barber
'Tis theirs, who but to please aspire,
On Fiction to employ the Lyre;
Make Gods and Goddesses display
The Splendor of the Nuptial Day.
