Love poems
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A Hymn Of Love
© Robert Laurence Binyon
O hush, sweet birds, that linger in lonely song!
Hold in your evening fragrance, wet May--bloom!
But drooping branches and leaves that greenly throng,
Darken and cover me over in tenderer gloom.
The Tower Beyond Tragedy
© Robinson Jeffers
I
You'd never have thought the Queen was Helen's sister- Troy's
The Ships Of Yule
© Bliss William Carman
They stopped at every port to call
From Babylon to Rome,
To load with all the lovely things
We never had at home;
Quatorzain
© Henry Timrod
MOST men know love but as a part of life;
They hide it in some corner of the breast,
The Way Of Love
© Edith Nesbit
THE butterfly loves the rose,
He flutters around her bed,
Till the soft curled leaves unclose,
And she raises her darling head.
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part I: To Manon: XVI
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
HE ARGUES WITH HIS LIFE
My life, what strange mad garments hast thou on,
Now that I see thee truly and am wise!
Thou wild, lost Proteus, strangling and undone!
Linnet-Like.
© Robert Crawford
The joy of God gets into us, and we
Hum with the intuition of His power;
Even as a linnet, like a thing inspired,
Throats his love-lyrics in the dewy leaves.
Places
© Sara Teasdale
PLACES I love come back to me like music,
Hush me and heal me when I am very tired;
I see the oak woods at Saxton's flaming
In a flare of crimson by the frost newly fired;
Old-Fashioned Child.
© Robert Crawford
He was born old; they who got him were grey,
And quaint as things that long had seasoned here
When that he came a too true vintage of
The lateness of the brewing blood and brain;
Lines
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
I 'm ashamed,--that 's the fact,--it 's a pitiful case,--
Won't any kind classmate get up in my place?
Just remember how often I've risen before,--
I blush as I straighten my legs on the floor!
Celia To Damon
© Matthew Prior
What can I say? What Arguments can prove
My Truth? What Colors can describe my Love?
If it's Excess and Fury be not known,
In what Thy Celia has already done?
I Planted A Rose Tree
© Mathilde Blind
I planted a rose tree in my garden,
In early days when the year was young;
I thought it would bear me roses, roses,
While nights were dewy and days were long.
Lines To A Steamboat
© George MacDonald
Dark stranger on the teeming map of fate
Fabric, that seemst a thing alike apart
From aught that nature or that art create;
To me a mystery thou ever art;
And awe and wonder stir me when thy frame
I view, strange birth of water and of flame.
The Age of a Dream
© Lionel Pigot Johnson
Gone now, the carven work! Ruined, the golden shrine!
No more the glorious organs pour their voice divine;
No more rich frankincense drifts through the Holy Place:
Now from the broken tower, what solemn bell still tolls,
Mourning what piteous death? Answer, O saddened souls!
Who mourn the death of beauty and the death of grace.
Oh! Had I the Wings of a Bird
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
Oh! had I the wings of a bird,
To soar through the blue, sunny sky,
Storm
© Wilfred Owen
His face was charged with beauty as a cloud
With glimmering lightning. When it shadowed me
I shook, and was uneasy as a tree
That draws the brilliant danger, tremulous, bowed.
This is No Case of Petty Right or Wrong
© Edward Thomas
This is no case of petty right or wrong
That politicians or philosophers
