Love poems
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When Mother Sleeps
© Edgar Albert Guest
When mother sleeps, a slamming door
Disturbs her not at all;
Earl Rodericks Bride
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
It was the Black Earl Roderick
Who rode towards the south;
Song Of The Sirens
© Arthur Symons
Our breasts are cold, salt are our kisses,
Your blood shall whiten in our sea-blisses;
Corydon: A Pastoral
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Nay, a simple swain
That tends his flock on yonder plain,
Naught else, I swear by book and bell.
But she that passed, you marked her well.
Was she not smooth as any be
That dwell herein in Arcady?
The Cottage
© Jones Very
The house my earthly parent left
My heavenly parent still throws down,
For 'tis of air and sun bereft,
Nor stars its roof with beauty crown.
The Troubadour
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
THE wind blows salt from off the sea
And sweet from where the land lies green;
I travel down the great highway
That runs so straight and white between--
I watch the sea-wind strain the sheet,
The land-wind toss the yellow wheat!
On fidelity
© Ovid
I don't ask you to be faithful - you're beautiful, after all -
but just that I be spared the pain of knowing.
Eva Gray
© Charles Harpur
PALER, paler, day by day,
Waxeth wordless Eva Gray,
Wasting through the heart away!
The Fourth Olympic Ode Of Pindar
© Henry James Pye
To Psaumis of Camarina, on his Victory in the Chariot Race. ARGUMENT. The Poet, after an invocation to Jupiter, extols Psaumis for his Victory in the Chariot Race, and for his desire to honor his country. From thence he takes occasion to praise him for his skill in managing horses, his hospitality, and his love of peace; and, mentioning the history of Erginus, excuses the early whiteness of his hair.
STROPHE.
A Cloud In Trousers - epilogue
© Vladimir Mayakovsky
Your thoughts,
dreaming on a softened brain,
like an over-fed lackey on a greasy settee,
with my heart's bloody tatters I'll mock again;
impudent and caustic, I'll jeer to superfluity.
To Eva Descending The Stair
© Sylvia Plath
Clocks cry: stillness is a lie, my dear;
The wheels revolve, the universe keeps running.
(Proud you halt upon the spiral stair.)
I Know All This When Gipsy Fiddles Cry
© Vachel Lindsay
Oh, sweating thieves, and hard-boiled scalawags,
That still will boast your pride until the doom,
Smashing every caste rule of the world,
Reaching at last your Hindu goal to smash
The caste rules of old India, and shout:
"Down with the Brahmins, let the Romany reign."
Third Sunday After Epiphany
© John Keble
I marked a rainbow in the north,
What time the wild autumnal sun
From his dark veil at noon looked forth,
As glorying in his course half done,
Flinging soft radiance far and wide
Over the dusky heaven and bleak hill-side.
Lost And Found
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
"Whither art thou gone, fair Una?
Una fair, the moon is gleaming;
Peanut-Butter Sandwich
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
I'll sing you a poem of a silly young king
Who played with the world at the end of a string,
But he only loved one single thing
And that was just a peanut-butter sandwich.
Eclogue VII
© Virgil
Corydon.
"Libethrian Nymphs, who are my heart's delight,
Grant me, as doth my Codrus, so to sing-
Next to Apollo he- or if to this
We may not all attain, my tuneful pipe
Here on this sacred pine shall silent hang."
Skin Diving
© William Matthews
The snorkel is the easiest woodwind.
Two notes in the chalumeau:
rising and falling.
Here is the skin of sleep,
the skin of reading, surfaces
An Eclogue From Virgil
© Eugene Field
(The exile Meliboeus finds Tityrus in possession of his own farm,
restored to him by the emperor Augustus, and a conversation ensues. The
poem is in praise of Augustus, peace and pastoral life.)
Sonnet LXV. To Dr. Parry Of Bath
© Charlotte Turner Smith
With some botanic drawings which had been made
some years.
IN happier hours, ere yet so keenly blew
Adversity's cold blight, and bitter storms,
