Love poems
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To Sensibility
© Helen Maria Williams
In SENSIBILITY'S lov'd praise
I tune my trembling reed,
And seek to deck her shrine with bays,
On which my heart must bleed!
The Voyage To Vinland: Bioern's Beckoners
© James Russell Lowell
Looms there the New Land;
Locked in the shadow
Long the gods shut it,
Niggards of newness
They, the o'er-old.
Songs Set To Music: 9. Set By Mr. De Fesch
© Matthew Prior
Is it, O love, thy want of eyes,
Or by the Fates decreed,
That hearts so seldom sympathise,
Or for each other bleed?
Penelope
© Francis Thompson
Love, like a wind, shook wide your blosmy eyes,
You trembled, and your breath came sobbing-wise
For that you loved me.
The Young Greek Odalisque
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Mid silken cushions, richly wrought, a young Greek girl reclined,
And fairer form the harems walls had neer before enshrined;
Mid all the young and lovely ones who round her clustered there,
With glowing cheeks and sparkling eyes, she shone supremely fair.
Sonnets to the Sundry Notes of Music
© William Shakespeare
I.
IT was a lording's daughter, the fairest one of three,
That liked of her master as well as well might be,
Till looking on an Englishman, the fair'st that eye could see,
Her fancy fell a-turning.
Loveis anterior to Life
© Emily Dickinson
Loveis anterior to Life
Posteriorto Death
Initial of Creation, and
The Exponent of Earth
Fragment Of The Elegy On The Death Of Bion
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
From the Greek of Moschus.
Ye Dorian woods and waves, lament aloud,--
Augment your tide, O streams, with fruitless tears,
For the beloved Bion is no more.
The Aesthete
© William Schwenck Gilbert
If you're anxious for to shine in the high aesthetic line, as a man
of culture rare,
Spring
© Andrew Lang
Ye gardens, cast your leafy crown,
That my Love's feet may tread it down,
Like lilies on the lilies set:
My Love, whose lips are softer far
Than drowsy poppy petals are,
And sweeter than the violet!
To My Brother
© Hristo Botev
It's difficult to live, my brother,
among such thick-skulled blunderheads;
the fires of my youth are smothered,
my heart is torn to bitter shreds.
Reflections
© Jean Ingelow
What change has made the pastures sweet
And reached the daisies at my feet,
And cloud that wears a golden hem?
This lovely world, the hills, the sward—
They all look fresh, as if our Lord
But yesterday had finished them.
My Mother's Kiss
© Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
My mother's kiss, my mother's kiss,
I feel its impress now;
As in the bright and happy days
She pressed it on my brow.
"Lines. . ."
© Harriet Beecher Stowe
In the fair garden of celestial Peace
Walketh a Gardener in meekness clad;
Fair are the flowers that wreathe his dewy locks,
And his mysterious eyes are sweet and sad.
Why This Volume Is So Thin
© Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
In youth I dreamed, as other youths have dreamt,
Of love, and thrummed an amateur guitar
Bessie's Song To Her Doll
© Lewis Carroll
Matilda Jane, you never look
At any toy or picture-book.
I show you pretty things in vain
You must be blind, Matilda Jane!
Friendship
© William Cowper
What virtue, or what mental grace
But men unqualified and base
Will boast it their possession?
Profusion apes the noble part
Of liberality of heart,
And dulness of discretion.
