Love poems
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Memorials On The Slain At Chickamauga
© Herman Melville
Happy are they and charmed in life
Who through long wars arrive unscarred
Afrodites Dampe
© Sophus Niels Christen Claussen
O Venus, holdes, schönes Weib,
Ihr seid eine Teufelinne
Lament Of A Mocking-Bird
© Frances Anne Kemble
Silence instead of thy sweet song, my bird,
Which through the darkness of my winter days
Warbling of summer sunshine still was heard;
Mute is thy song, and vacant is thy place.
Minnie's Departure
© Julia A Moore
Dearest Minnie, she has left us,
In this world of grief and woe,
But 'tis God that has bereft us,
He called her little soul to go.
King Volmer and Elsie
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Where, over heathen doom-rings and gray stones of the Horg,
In its little Christian city stands the church of Vordingborg,
In merry mood King Volmer sat, forgetful of his power,
As idle as the Goose of Gold that brooded on his tower.
Li'l' Gal
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
Oh, de weathah it is balmy an' de breeze is sighin' low.
Li'l' gal,
Cancion de Otoño en Primavera (Song of Autumn in the Springtime)
© Rubén Dario
Juventud, divino tesoro,
ya te vas para no volver!
Cuando quiero llorar, no lloro,
y a veces lloro sin querer
.
Ryton Firs
© Lascelles Abercrombie
All round the knoll, on days of quietest air,
Secrets are being told; and if the trees
Speak out let them make uproar loud as drums
'Tis secrets still, shouted instead of whisper'd.
Sonnet Of Motherhood XLV
© Zora Bernice May Cross
Kiss me. Kiss her. The miracle is wrought
The simple beauty out of simple love
Mother and father, child and Godall One
Eternal trinity for ever sought.
O, blessed from her quiet place above,
Your mother kisses usa lifes work done.
The Emigrant
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
FAREWELL, ah, happy shades! ah, scenes belov'd,
Of infant sports and bright unclouded hours!
Where oft in childhood's happy days I rov'd,
Thro' forest-walks, and wild secluded bow'rs!
Poulain The Prisoner
© Augusta Davies Webster
One single ray: and where its light could fall
His rusty nail carved saints and angels there,
And warriors, and slim girls with braided hair,
And blossomy boughs, and birds athwart the air.
Rude work, but yet a world. And light for all
Was one slant ray upon a prison wall.
The Conquest
© George Gordon Byron
The Son of Love and Lord of War I sing;
Him who bade England bow to Normandy
And left the name of conqueror more than king
To his unconquerable dynasty.
Return
© Frances Anne Kemble
When the bright sun back on his yearly road
Comes towards us, his great glory seems to me,
The Shepherd's Week : Thursday; or, The Spell
© John Gay
Hobnelia.
Hobnelia, seated in a dreary vale,
Don Juan: Canto The Fourteenth
© George Gordon Byron
If from great nature's or our own abyss
Of thought we could but snatch a certainty,
James McCosh
© Robert Seymour Bridges
The laws of nature that he loved to trace
Have worked, at last, to veil from us his face;
The dear old elms and ivy-covered walls
Will miss his presence, and the stately halls
His trumpet voice. And in their joys
Sorrow will shadow those he called my boys!
