Love poems
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To Memory
© Mathilde Blind
Bring but one pansy: haply so the thrill
Of poignant yearning for those glad dead years
May, like the gusty south, breathe o'er the chill
Of frozen grief, dissolving it in tears,
Till numb Hope, stirred by that warm dropping rain,
Will deem, perchance, Love's springtide come again.
Spare Parts by Trish Dugger: American Life in Poetry #153 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
In this endearing short poem by Californian Trish Dugger, we can imagine âwhat if?â? What if we had been given âa baker's dozen of hearts?â? I imagine many more and various love poems would be written. Here Ms. Dugger, Poet Laureate of the City of Encinitas, makes fine use of the one patched but good heart she has.
Spare Parts
We barge out of the womb
with two of them: eyes, ears,
Your Time's Comin'
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
cho; You know she's a cheater, son
And you think that you're the one
That's got a lot of what it takes to change her;
I've no doubt that you can get her
You ain't much, but that don't matter
Nothin' suits her better than a stranger.
Home-Sick
© Ada Cambridge
O time, great Healer! canst thou still
The crying hearts that feel the knife?
Remembrance
© Emily Jane Brontë
COLD in the earth--and the deep snow piled above thee,
Far, far removed, cold in the dreary grave!
Have I forgot, my only Love, to love thee,
Sever'd at last by Time's all-severing wave?
Hymn - Consecration of Magnolia Cemetery
© Henry Timrod
Whose was the hand that painted thee, O Death!
In the false aspect of a ruthless foe,
Despair and sorrow waiting on thy breath -
O gentle Power! who could have wronged thee so?
Aeneid
© Virgil
THE ARGUMENT.- Turnus takes advantage of AEneas's absence,
fires some of his ships (which are transformed into sea nymphs),
and assaults his camp. The Trojans, reduc'd to the last extremities,
send Nisus and Euryalus to recall AEneas; which furnishes the
poet with that admirable episode of their friendship, generosity, and
the conclusion of their adventures.
Frida And Her Poet
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
He bids a last farewell
To this world's life, again prepared to dwell
On heights celestial, in whose golden airs
The heart, at least, shall shed earth's wintry cares,
And blooming, breathe the vernal heats of Heaven.
Grace At Evening
© Edgar Albert Guest
For all the beauties of the day,
The innocence of childhoods play,
For health and strength and laughter sweet,
Dear Lord, our thanks we now repeat.
The Fellowship Of Genius
© Frances Anne Kemble
O hearts of flesh! O beating hearts of love!
O twining hands of human dear desire!
The House Of Dust: Part 02: 04:
© Conrad Aiken
I sit before the gold-embroidered curtain
And think her face is like a wrinkled desert.
The crystal burns in lamplight beneath my eyes.
A dragon slowly coils on the scaly curtain.
Upon a scarlet cloth a white skull lies.
'Look At The Clock!' : Patty Morgan The Milkmaid's Story
© Richard Harris Barham
And 'still on each evening when pleasure fills up,'
At the old Goat-in-Boots, with Metheglin, each cup,
Mr Pryce, if he's there,
Will get into 'the Chair,'
The House Of Dust: Part 02: 10:
© Conrad Aiken
'Number fourthe girl who died on the table
The girl with golden hair'
The purpling body lies on the polished marble.
We open the throat, and lay the thyroid bare . . .
Hymn XXX: Where Shall My Wondering Soul Begin?
© Charles Wesley
Where shall my wondering soul begin?
How shall I all to heaven aspire?
A slave redeemed from death and sin,
A brand plucked from eternal fire,
How shall I equal triumphs raise,
Or sing my great Deliverer's praise?
Sister
© Gabriela Mistral
Today I saw a woman plowing a furrow. Her hips are
broad, like mine, for love, and she goes about her work
bent over the earth.
Recollections
© Giacomo Leopardi
Ye dear stars of the Bear, I did not think
I should again be turning, as I used,
No Message
© Mary Hannay Foott
She heard the story of the end,
Each message, too, she heard;
And there was one for every friend;
For her alone - no word.
"I dreamt last night of happy home-comings"
© Lesbia Harford
I dreamt last night of happy home-comings.
Friends I had loved and had believed were dead
Came happily to visit me and said
I was a part of their fair home-coming
The Broomfield Hill
© Andrew Lang
There was a knight and lady bright
Set trysts amo the broom,
The one to come at morning eav,
The other at afternoon.
