Love poems
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The Indian Lover. Morning Song.
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
O'ER flowery fields of waving maize,
The breeze of morning lightly plays;
Arise, my Zumia! let us rove,
The cool and fragrant citron grove!
Isabel
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
In the most early morn
I rise from a damp pillow, tempest-tost,
To seek the sun with silent gaze forlorn,
And mourn for thee, my lost
Isabel.
The Two Ogres
© William Schwenck Gilbert
Good children, list, if you're inclined,
And wicked children too -
This pretty ballad is designed
Especially for you.
Gentleman-Rankers
© Rudyard Kipling
To the legion of the lost ones, to the cohort of the damned,
To my brethren in their sorrow overseas,
The Widow To Her Sons Betrothed
© Caroline Norton
I.
AH, cease to plead with that sweet cheerful voice,
Nor bid me struggle with a weight of woe,
Lest from the very tone that says "rejoice"
Funeral Tree of the Sokokis
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Around Sebago's lonely lake
There lingers not a breeze to break
The mirror which its waters make.
Colloque Sentimental
© Paul Verlaine
In the deserted park, silent and vast,
Erewhile two shadowy glimmering figures passed.
Mystic
© Sylvia Plath
The air is a mill of hooks -
Questions without answer,
Glittering and drunk as flies
Whose kiss stings unbearably
In the fetid wombs of black air under pines in summer.
My Studio
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
I LOVE it, yet I hardly can tell why
My studio with its window to the sky,
Far up above the noises of the street,
The rumbling carts, the ceaseless tramp of feet;
Nacht am Strand (Night on the Shore)
© Heinrich Heine
Starless and cold is the night:
The sea is foaming,
The Avalanche
© Alaric Alexander Watts
'Tis Night; and Silence with unmoving wings
Broods o'er the sleeping waters;ânot a sound
The Green River
© Lord Alfred Douglas
I know a green grass path that leaves the field,
And like a running river, winds along
The True Aaron
© John Newton
See Aaron, God's anointed priest,
Within the veil appear;
In robes of mystic meaning dressed,
Presenting Israel's prayer.
That Wind I Used To Hear It Swelling
© Emily Jane Brontë
That wind I used to hear it swelling
With joy divinely deep
You might have seen my hot tears welling
But rapture made me weep
Three Men Of Truro
© Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
Aloft with us! And while another stone
Swings to its socket, haste with trowel and hod!
Win the old smile a moment ere, alone,
Soars the great soul to bear report to God.
Night falls; but thou, dear Captain, from thy star
Look down, behold how bravely goes the war!
Summer
© Johannes Carl Andersen
And sleeps thy heart when flower and tree
Adorn the summer stillness?
Sonnet LXIV: Ardour And Memory
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
The cuckoo-throb, the heartbeat of the Spring;
The rosebud's blush that leaves it as it grows
Hymn IV. Dear Jesu, when, when will it be,
© John Austin
Dear Jesu, when, when will it be,
That I no more shall break with Thee!
