Love poems
/ page 395 of 1285 /
The Wound
© Gwen Harwood
The tenth day, and they give
my mirror back. Who knows
how to drink pain, and live?
I look, and the glass shows
the truth, fine as a hair,
of the scalpel's wounding care.
Irony
© Roderic Quinn
ALL night a great wind blew across the land,
Come fresh from wild and salty seas,
With many voices loud and low
Appealing to the sympathies
A Sigh
© Mathilde Blind
SILENT, I sat within the boat,
The earth and sea were still;
The mist wrapped softly, fold on fold,
O'er wood, and dale, and hill:
Frost
© Edith Matilda Thomas
HOW small a tooth hath mined the seasons heart!
How cold a touch hath set the wood on fire,
Niggers Leap, New England
© Judith Wright
Did we not know their blood channelled our rivers,
and the black dust our crops ate was their dust?
O all men are one man at last. We should have known
the night that tidied up the cliffs and hid them
had the same question on its tongue for us.
And there they lie that were ourselves writ strange.
Olney Hymn 59: A Living And A Dead Faith
© William Cowper
The Lord receives his highest praise
From humble minds and hearts sincere;
While all the loud professor says
Offends the righteous Judge's ear.
Thirteenth Sunday After Trinity
© John Keble
On Sinai's top, in prayer and trance,
Full forty nights and forty days
The Prophet watched for one dear glance
Of thee and of Thy ways:
Books And Seasons
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Because the sky is blue; because blithe May
Masks in the wren's note and the lilac's hue;
Beauty And The Beast
© Charles Lamb
"My Lord, I swear upon my knees,
"I did not mean to harm your trees;
"But a lov'd Daughter, fair as spring,
"Intreated me a Rose to bring;
"O didst thou know, my lord, the Maid!"-
Danse Du Venteje
© Arthur Symons
Her vices to her cling.
There's blood that stains her mouth;
Suspense of sense, a sting
On all her body's drouth
Of blood-red colouring.
The World Within Us
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
PERCHANCE our inward world may partly be
But outward Nature's fine epitome;
Now, o'er it floats some cloud of tender pain
Too frail to hold the sad reserves of rain;
The Disinterred Warrior
© William Cullen Bryant
Gather him to his grave again,
And solemnly and softly lay,
Thus, Woman, Principle Of Life, Speaker Of The Ideal
© Paul Eluard
Between the sands of night and the waves of day
Between earth and water
No ripple to erase
No road possible
Inscription On The Monument Of A Newfoundland Dog
© George Gordon Byron
When some proud son of man returns to earth,
Unknown to glory, but upheld by birth,
The Beggar
© Mikhail Lermontov
By gates of an abode, blessed,
A man stood, asking for donation,
A beggar, cruelly oppressed
By hunger, thirst and deprivation.
Saint Romualdo
© Emma Lazarus
I give God thanks that I, a lean old man,
Wrinkled, infirm, and crippled with keen pains
Bound For California
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
With buoyant heart he left his home for that bright wondrous land
Where gold ore gleams in countless mines, and gold dust strews the sand;
And youths dear ties were riven all, for as wild, as vain, a dream
As the meteor false that leads astray the traveller with its gleam.
Will You Forget?
© Madison Julius Cawein
In years to come, will you forget,
Dear girl, how often we have met?
