Love poems
/ page 332 of 1285 /Doing Nothing
© Roderic Quinn
WITH the sorrow on me
Neighbours come and go
Think me vain and foolish
Nursing up my woe.
Within and Without: Part I: A Dramatic Poem
© George MacDonald
Robert.
Head in your hands as usual! You will fret
Your life out, sitting moping in the dark.
Come, it is supper-time.
The Christening
© Caroline Norton
So let it be! and when the noble head
Of thy true-hearted father, babe beloved,
Now glossy dark, is silver-gray instead,
And thy young birth-day far away removed;
Still may'st thou be a comfort and a joy,--
Still welcome as this day, unconscious boy!
Herve Riel
© Robert Browning
On the sea and at the Hogue, sixteen hundred ninety two,
Did the English fight the French,--woe to France!
And, the thirty-first of May, helter-skelter thro' the blue.
Like a crowd of frightened porpoises a shoal of sharks pursue,
Came crowding ship on ship to St. Malo on the Rance,
With the English fleet in view.
Wanted--A Little Girl
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Where have they gone to-the little girls
With natural manners and natural curls;
Who love their dollies and like their toys,
And talk of something besides the boys?
Echoes Of Spring
© Mathilde Blind
I.
I WALK about in driving snow,
And drizzling rain, splashed o'er and o'er;
No sign that radiant spring e'en now
Stands at the threshold of the door.
Henry Howard Brownell
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
They never crowned him, never dreamed his worth,
And let him go unlaurelled to the grave:
George and Sarah Green
© William Wordsworth
WHO weeps for strangers? Many wept
For George and Sarah Green;
Wept for that pair's unhappy fate,
Whose grave may here be seen.
Jennifers Lad
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
SWEET Jennifer came calling me
Along the shining beach.
Twelfth Sunday After Trinity
© John Keble
The Son of God in doing good
Was fain to look to Heaven and sigh:
Sonnet 98: Ah Bed, The field Where Joy's Peace
© Sir Philip Sidney
Ah bed, the field where joy's peace some do see,
The field where all my thought to war be train'd,
How is thy grace by my strange fortune stain'd!
How thy lee shores by my sighs stormed be!
The Death Of Admiral Blake
© Sir Henry Newbolt
Laden with spoil of the South, fulfilled with the glory of achievement,
And freshly crowned with never-dying fame,
Sweeping by shores where the names are the names of the victories of England,
Across the Bay the squadron homeward came.
A Christmas Song
© Alaric Alexander Watts
The present moment's all our own,
The next, who ever saw! ~ Mickle.
The Colonists
© Katharine Tynan
To men now of her blood and race
England's a little garden place,
Dear as a woman is, and she
The Queen of every loyalty.