Love poems
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Fragments
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
THE wounded hart and the dying swan
Were side by side
Where the rushes coil with the turn of the tide
The hart and the swan.
Foreign Lands
© Henry Lawson
Here we slave the dull years hopeless for the sake of Wool and Wheat
Here the homes of ugly Commerceniggard farm and haggard street;
Yet our mothers and our fathers won the life the heart demands
Less than fifty years gone over, we were born in Foreign Lands.
Fragments - Lines 1341 - 1350
© Theognis of Megara
Alas, I am in love with a soft-skinned boy, who to all my friends
Reveals that this is true, though he does so against my will.
The Monk
© Edith Nesbit
WHEN in my narrow cell I lie,
The long day's penance done at last,
I see the ghosts of days gone by,
And hear the voices of the past.
Crumbs Or The Loaf
© Robinson Jeffers
If one should tell them what's clearly seen
They'd not understand; if they understood they would not believe;
Roses
© Edgar Albert Guest
When God first viewed the rose He'd made
He smiled, and thought it passing fair;
Casey's Table D'Hote
© Eugene Field
Oh, them days on Red Hoss Mountain, when the skies wuz fair 'nd blue,
When the money flowed like likker, 'nd the folks wuz brave 'nd true!
Song. "Yet once again, but once, before we sever"
© Frances Anne Kemble
Yet once again, but once, before we sever,
Fill we one brimming cup,it is the last!
Ode to Duty
© William Wordsworth
. Stern Daughter of the Voice of God!
O Duty! if that name thou love
St. Anthony The Reformer
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
No fear lest praise should make us proud!
We know how cheaply that is won;
The idle homage of the crowd
Is proof of tasks as idly done.
I Make This In A Warring Absence
© Dylan Thomas
I make a weapon of an ass's skeleton
And walk the warring sands by the dead town.
Cudgel great air, wreck east, and topple sundown,
Storm her sped heart, hang with beheaded veins
Its wringing shell, and let her eyelids fasten.
Destruction, picked by birds, brays through the jaw-bone,
Elegy XV: A Tale of a Citizen and his Wife
© John Donne
I SING no harm, good sooth, to any wight,
To lord or fool, cuckold, beggar, or knight,
The House Of Dust: Part 02: 11:
© Conrad Aiken
Snow falls. The sky is grey, and sullenly glares
With purple lights in the canyoned street.
The fiery sign on the dark tower wreathes and flares . . .
The trodden grass in the park is covered with white,
The streets grow silent beneath our feet . . .
The city dreams, it forgets its past to-night.
The Disciple
© Oscar Wilde
When Narcissus died the pool of his pleasure changed from a cup of
sweet waters into a cup of salt tears, and the Oreads came weeping
through the woodland that they might sing to the pool and give it
comfort.
Ruth
© Henry Lawson
Are the fields of my fancy less fair through a window thats narrowed and barred?
Are the morning stars dimmed by the glare of the gas-light that flares in the yard?
No! And what does it matter to me if to-morrow I sail from the land?
I am free, as I never was free! I exult in my loneliness grand!
The Hawthorn Bower
© John Cunningham
Palemnon, in the hawthorn bower,
With fond impatience lay,
He counted every anxious hour
That stretch'd the tedious day.
Kate Kearney
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
How many share such destiny,
How many, lured by fancy's beam,
Ask the impossible to be,
And pine, the victims of a dream.
To Amanda
© James Thomson
Unless with my Amanda bless'd,
In vain I twine the woodbine bower;
Unless to deck her sweeter breast,
In vain I rear the breathing flower.
