Love poems
/ page 303 of 1285 /The Murdered Lover
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
Say a mass for my soul's repose, my brother,
Say a mass for my soul's repose, I need it,
Lovingly lived we, the sons of one mother,
Mine was the sin, but I pray you not heed it.
The Ministers Daughter
© John Greenleaf Whittier
In the minister's morning sermon
He had told of the primal fall,
And how thenceforth the wrath of God
Rested on each and all.
From the Persian of Hafiz I
© Ralph Waldo Emerson
Butler, fetch the ruby wine,
Which with sudden greatness fills us;
In The House Of Idiedaily
© Bliss William Carman
OH, but life went gaily, gaily,
In the house of Idiedaily!
Winstanley
© Jean Ingelow
Quoth the cedar to the reeds and rushes,
“Water-grass, you know not what I do;
Know not of my storms, nor of my hushes.
And—I know not you.”
A Little Child Shall Lead Them
© Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
Eagerly he grasped the writing;
"I am free!" at last he said.
Backward fell upon the pillow,
He was free among the dead.
Arcadia Rediviva
© James Russell Lowell
I, walking the familiar street,
While a crammed horse-car jingled through it,
Was lifted from my prosy feet
And in Arcadia ere I knew it.
Guido Invites You Thus
© Ezra Pound
Lappo I leave behind and Dante too,
Lo, I would sail the seas with thee alone!
Talk me no love talk, no bought-cheap fiddlry,
Mine is the ship and thine the merchandise,
All the blind earth knows not th'emprise
Whereto thou calledst and whereto I call.
Beautiful Twenty-Second
© Julia A Moore
Beautiful twenty-second,
Beautiful twenty-second,
May the people ever keep it,
Beautiful twenty-second.
Woman
© Fitz-Greene Halleck
LADY, although we have not met,
And may not meet, beneath the sky;
And whether thine are eyes of jet,
Gray, or dark blue, or violet,
Or hazelheaven knows, not I;
The High Road In Winter
© Alexander Pushkin
Between the rolling vapours
The moon glides soft and bright;
Across the dreary fallows
She casts a mournful light.
To Jane: The Recollection
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
Now the last day of many days,
All beautiful and bright as thou,
The loveliest and the last, is dead,
March Mournful and Vertical
© Kostas Karyotakis
I stare at the ceiling's plasterwork.
I'm drawn into the dance of the meanders.
My happiness, I'm thinking, would
lie in height.
To A Sleeping Child
© Thomas Hood
I
Oh, 'tis a touching thing, to make one weep,
A tender infant with its curtain'd eye,
Breathing as it would neither live nor die
Centennial Celebration
© Julia A Moore
In the year eighteen seventy-six,
A Fourth of July celebration
An Invocation
© Walter Savage Landor
WE are what suns and winds and waters make us;
The mountains are our sponsors, and the rills
Fashion and win their nursling with their smiles.
But where the land is dim from tyranny,
To My Godchild Alice
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
ALICE, Alice, little Alice,
My new-christened baby Alice,
Can there ever rhymes be found
To express my wishes for thee
The Last Wish
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Go to the forest-shade,
Seek thou the well-known glade,
Where, heavy with sweet dew, the violets lie,
Gleaming thro' moss-tufts deep,
Like dark eyes fill'd with sleep,
And bath'd in hues of summer's midnight sky.