Love poems
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Christmas Greeting
© Edgar Albert Guest
I DO not care to wait until the hand of death has smoothed your brow
Before I say what's in my heart, I'd rather tell it to you now.
I'd rather say: "How glad I am to know your cheery voice and smile,"
Than stand and say "how glad I was" in some grief-stricken after-while.
I'd rather shout: "how good you are!" than sniffle out: "how good was he!"
And so I take this Christmas Day to say you have a friend in me.
The Mary (A Sea-Side Sketch)
© Thomas Hood
Lov'st thou not, Alice, with the early tide
To see the hardy Fisher hoist his mast,
And stretch his sail towards the ocean wide,
Like God's own beadsman going forth to cast
The Bacchanal Of Alexander
© Robert Laurence Binyon
I
A wondrous rumour fills and stirs
The wide Carmanian Vale;
On leafy hills the sunburnt vintagers
To Edward Williams
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
The serpent is shut out from Paradise.
The wounded deer must seek the herb no more
In which its heart-cure lies:
Thou Art Not False, But Thou Art Fickle
© George Gordon Byron
Thou art not false, but thou art fickle,
To those thyself so fondly sought;
The tears that thou hast forced to trickle
Are doubly bitter from that thought:
'Tis this which breaks the heart thou grievest
Too well thou lov'st - too soon thou leavest.
A Pastoral upon the birth of Prince Charles: presented to the King
© Robert Herrick
AMIN. Good day, Mirtillo. MIRT. And to you no less;
And all fair signs lead on our shepherdess.
To The River Yvette. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The Fifth)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
O lovely river of Yvette!
O darling river! like a bride,
Some dimpled, bashful, fair Lisette,
Thou goest to wed the Orge's tide.
Outward Bound
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
I leave behind me the elm-shadowed square
And carven portals of the silent street,
Eclogue the First Selim
© William Taylor Collins
`O haste, fair maids, ye Virtues, come away,
Sweet Peace and Plenty lead you on your way!
The balmy shrub for you shall love our shore,
By Ind excelled or Araby no more.
Love Songs
© Harriet Monroe
I
I LOVE my life, but not too well
To give it to thee like a flower,
So it may pleasure thee to dwell
Deep in its perfume but an hour.
I love my life, but not too well.
The Song Of Hiawatha XV: Hiawatha's Lamentation
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In those days the Evil Spirits,
All the Manitos of mischief,
To A Sparrow
© Francis Ledwidge
Because you have no fear to mingle
Wings with those of greater part,
So like me, with song I single
Your sweet impudence of heart.
Hope
© Charlotte Turner Smith
Parody on Lord Strangford's "Just like Love."
JUST like Hope is yonder bow,
Lethe
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
A DUMB, dark region through whose desolate heart
Creeps a dull river with a stagnant flood;
Its skies are sombre-hued, and dreary clouds,
No wind hath ever stirred, hang low and dim
For The Friends At Hurstmont
© Henry Van Dyke
THE DOOR
The lintel low enough to keep out pomp and pride:
The threshold high enough to turn deceit aside:
The fastening strong enough from robbers to defend:
This door will open at a touch to welcome every friend.
Christmas
© Sir Walter Scott
The glowing censers, and their rich perfume;
The splendid vestments, and the sounding choir;
The Cigar
© Thomas Hood
Some sigh for this and that,
My wishes don't go far;
The world may wag at will,
So I have my cigar.
Splash, Dash!
© Louisa May Alcott
"Splash, dash!
Rumble and crash!
Here come the beavers gay;
See what they do,
Rosy, for you,
Because you helped me one day."
The Shepherds Calendar - April
© John Clare
The infant april joins the spring
And views its watery skye
As youngling linnet trys its wing
And fears at first to flye
Fragment Of A Sonnet. Farewell To North Devon
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Where man's profane and tainting hand
Natures primaeval loveliness has marred,
And some few souls of the high bliss debarred
Which else obey her powerful command;
...mountain piles
That load in grandeur Cambria's emerald vales.
