Love poems
/ page 308 of 1285 /
The City
© Archibald Lampman
Beyond the dusky corn-fields, toward the west,
Dotted with farms, beyond the shallow stream,
The Lament For Shuil Donalds Daughter
© Caroline Norton
I.
IN old Shuil Donald's cottage there are many voices weeping,
And stifled sobs, and murmurings of sorrow wild and vain,
For the old man's cherish'd blessing on her bed of death lies sleeping,--
Ghost Of The Beautiful Past
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Ghost of the beautiful past, of the days long gone, of a queen, of a fair sweet woman.
Ghost with the passionate eyes, how proud, yet not too proud to have wept, to have loved, since to love is human.
Angel in fair white garments, with skirts of lawn, by the autumn wind on the pathway fluttered,
Always close by the castle wall and about to speak. But the whisper dies on her lips unuttered.
Gratefulnesse
© George Herbert
Thou that hast giv'n so much to me,
Give one thing more, a grateful heart.
See how thy beggar works on thee
By art.
Nothin' To Say
© James Whitcomb Riley
Nothin' to say, my daughter! Nothin' at all to say!
Gyrls that's in love, I've noticed, ginerly has their way!
Yer mother did, afore you, when her folks objected to me--
Yit here I am, and here you air; and yer mother--where is she?
The four Monarchyes, the Assyrian being the first, beginning under Nimrod, 131. Years after the Floo
© Anne Bradstreet
When time was young, & World in Infancy,
Man did not proudly strive for Soveraignty:
Dramatic Fragment
© Henry Timrod
Let the boy have his will! I tell thee, brother,
We treat these little ones too much like flowers,
On The Sea's Bosom
© Swami Vivekananda
In blue sky floats a multitude of clouds --
White, black, of many shades and thicknesses;
An orange sun, about to say farewell,
Touches the massed cloud-shapes with streaks of red.
In The Mission Garden
© Francis Bret Harte
I speak not the English well, but Pachita,
She speak for me; is it not so, my Pancha?
Eh, little rogue? Come, salute me the stranger
Americano.
Hoodoo
© Madison Julius Cawein
She mutters and stoops by the lone bayou--
The little green leaves are hushed on the trees--
Song
© William Cullen Bryant
Dost thou idly ask to hear
At what gentle seasons
Nymphs relent, when lovers near
Press the tenderest reasons?
The Two Wives
© William Dean Howells
THE COLONEL rode by his picket-line
In the pleasant morning sun,
That glanced from him far off to shine
On the crouching rebel pickets gun.
From "Hugh Selwyn Mauberley" (June 1920)
© Ezra Pound
IV
These fought in any case,
and some believing,
pro domo, in any case
Davids Lamentation for Saul and Jonathan.
© Anne Bradstreet
2. Sam. 1. 19.Alas slain is the Head of Israel,
Illustrious Saul whose beauty did excell,
I Chide Not At The Seasons
© Alfred Austin
I chide not at the seasons, for if Spring
With backward look refuses to be fair,
The Nature Of Love. (From The Italian)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
To noble heart Love doth for shelter fly,
As seeks the bird the forest's leafy shade;
Seasons Of The Soul
© Allen Tate
Attor porsi la mano un poco avante,
e colsi un ramicel da un gran pruno;
e U tronco suo gridd: Perchd mi schiante?
Cousin Robert
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
O COUSIN Robert, far away
Among the lands of gold,
How many years since we two met?--
You would not like it told.
