Love poems
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The Poet And The Muse
© Alfred Austin
Whither, and whence, and why hast fled?
Thou art dumb, my muse; thou art dumb, thou art dead,
As a waterless stream, as a leafless tree.
What have I done to banish thee?
While I Listen to Thy Voice
© Edmund Waller
While I listen to thy voice,
Chloris, I feel my life decay;
That powerful noise
Calls my flitting soul away.
Oh! suppress that magic sound,
Which destroys without a wound.
Sonnet 112: "Your love and pity doth the impression fill,..."
© William Shakespeare
Your love and pity doth the impression fill,
Which vulgar scandal stamped upon my brow;
To The Lord Chancellor
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
Thy country's curse is on thee, darkest crest
Of that foul, knotted, many-headed worm
Which rends our Mothers bosomPriestly Pest!
Masked Resurrection of a buried Form!
On Happiness
© James Thomson
Warm'd by the summer sun's meridian ray,
As underneath a spreading oak I lay
Contemplating the mighty load of woe,
In search of bliss that mortals undergo,
Good Friday, A.D. 33
© Katharine Tynan
Mother, why are people crowding now and staring?
Child, it is a malefactor goes to His doom,
To the high hill of Calvary He's faring,
And the people pressing and pushing to make room
Lest they miss the sight to come.
Of The Nature Of Things: Book IV - Part 05 - The Passion Of Love
© Lucretius
This craving 'tis that's Venus unto us:
From this, engender all the lures of love,
Elegiac Stanzas
© William Lisle Bowles
When I lie musing on my bed alone,
And listen to the wintry waterfall;
And many moments that are past and gone,
Moments of sunshine and of joy, recall;
The Companionable Ills
© Sylvia Plath
The nose-end that twitches, the old imperfections--
Tolerable now as moles on the face
Put up with until chagrin gives place
To a wry complaisance--
Heroes
© John Jay Chapman
I SEE them hasting toward the light
Where war's dim watchfires glow;
The stars that burn in Europe's night
Conduct them to the foe.
An Odd Conceit
© Nicholas Breton
Lovely kind, and kindly loving,
Such a mind were worth the moving;
Truly fair, and fairly true-
Where are all these, but in you?
The Dirge
© John Le Gay Brereton
Out of the pregnant darkness, where from fire
To glimmering fire the watchword leaps,
The dirge floats up from those who build the pyre
High and still higher
That yet shall blaze across the verminous deeps.
The Spirits of Our Fathers
© Henry Lawson
THE SPIRITS of our fathers rise not from every wave,
They left the sea behind them long ago;
It was many years of slogging, where strong men must be brave,
For the sake of unborn children, and, maybe, a soul to save,
And the end a tidy homestead, and four panels round a grave,
Andthe bones of poor old Someone down below.
The Defeat of Youth
© Aldous Huxley
I. UNDER THE TREES.
There had been phantoms, pale-remembered shapes
Song VII. - When bright Roxana treads the green
© William Shenstone
When bright Roxana treads the green,
In all the pride of dress and mien,
Averse to freedom, love, and play,
The dazzling rival of the day;
None other beauty strikes mine eye,
The lilies droop, the roses die.
Moon-Light
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
COME, gentle muse! now all is calm,
The dew descends, the air is balm;
Unruffled is the glassy deep,
While moon-beams o'er its bosom sleep;
