Love poems
/ page 323 of 1285 /Song I
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
FLY, swiftly fly
Through yon fair sky,
O purple-pinioned Hours!
And bring once more the balmy night,
The Parish Register - Part I: Baptisms
© George Crabbe
floor.
Here his poor bird th' inhuman Cocker brings,
Arms his hard heel and clips his golden wings;
With spicy food th' impatient spirit feeds,
And shouts and curses as the battle bleeds.
Struck through the brain, deprived of both his
Only One Man Killed Today
© Anonymous
There are tears and wails in the old brown house
On the hillside steep today,
The Swallow
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
How I hate the sparrows, the sparrows, the sparrows.
In and out and round the house all the live-long day,
The Music Box
© Christopher Morley
AT six-long ere the wintry dawn-
There sounded through the silent hall
To where I lay, with blankets drawn
Above my ears, a plaintive call.
I, Too
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
I saw fond lovers in that glow
That oft-times fades away too soon:
I saw and said, "Their joy I know-
I, too, have had my honeymoon."
Nightmare, With Angels
© Stephen Vincent Benet
An angel came to me and stood by my bedside,
Remarking in a professorial-historical-economic and irritated voice,
The Farewell
© Charles Churchill
_P_. Farewell to Europe, and at once farewell
To all the follies which in Europe dwell;
Life Is Bitter
© William Ernest Henley
Life is bitter. All the faces of the years,
Young and old, are gray with travail and with tears.
Must we only wake to toil, to tire, to weep?
In the sun, among the leaves, upon the flowers,
Slumber stills to dreamy death the heavy hours
Let me sleep.
The Voice And The Dusk
© Duncan Campbell Scott
THE slender moon and one pale star,
A rose leaf and a silver bee
From some god's garden blown afar,
Go down the gold deep tranquilly.
Love Sonnet XLIV
© Zora Bernice May Cross
I cannot tell the wonder of desire
That flames my cheek when you are by my side.
Nor dare I speak the secret of that bliss
That sets the senses of my soul on fire.
Ah Love! all my sin vanished into pride
When I drank Heaven from your first pure kiss.
Partant Pour La Scribie
© Andrew Lang
A pleasant land is Scribie, where
The light comes mostly from below,
And seems a sort of symbol rare
Of things at large, and how they go,
In rooms where doors are everywhere
And cupboards shelter friend or foe.
Little and Great
© Charles Mackay
A traveller on a dusty road
Strewed acorns on the lea;
And one took root and sprouted up,
And grew into a tree.
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part III: Gods And False Gods: LXXVII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
WHO WOULD LIVE AGAIN?
Oh who would live again to suffer loss?
Once in my youth I battled with my fate,
Grudging my days to death. I would have won
The Odyssey
© Andrew Lang
AS one that for a weary space has lain
Lull'd by the song of Circe and her wine
On A Bank As I Sate A Fishing: A Description Of The Spring
© Sir Henry Wotton
And now all Nature seem'd in love,
The lusty sap began to move;
The Acquiescence Of Pure Love
© William Cowper
Love! if thy destined sacrifice am I,
Come, slay thy victim, and prepare thy fires;
Plunged in thy depths of mercy, let me die
The death which every soul that lives desires!
Inscriptions: II: For A Statue Of Chaucer At Woodstock
© Mark Akenside
Such was old Chaucer. such the placid mien
Of him who first with harmony inform'd