Love poems
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To His Royal Highness The Prince Of Wales
© James Thomson
While secret-leaguing nations frown around,
Ready to pour the long-expected storm;
While she, who wont the restless Gaul to bound,
Britannia, drooping, grows an empty form;
While on our vitals selfish parties prey,
And deep corruption eats our soul away;
Love-Doubt
© Archibald Lampman
For oh, my Love was sunny-lipped and stirred
With all swift light and sound and gloom not long
Retained; I, with dreams weighed, that ever heard
Sad burdens echoing through the loudest throng
She, the wild song of some May-merry bird;
I, but the listening maker of a song.
A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet XXVIII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Yet it is pitiful how friendships die,
Spite of our oaths eternal and high vows.
Some fall through blight of tongues wagged secretly,
Some through strifes loud in empty honour's house.
Andrew Rykmans Prayer
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Andrew Rykman's dead and gone;
You can see his leaning slate
In the graveyard, and thereon
Read his name and date.
To The Queen Of England
© Edith Nesbit
COME forth! the world's aflame with flags and flowers,
The shout of bells fills full the shattered air,
Dedication
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
THE SEA gives her shells to the shingle,
The earth gives her streams to the sea;
An Attempt To Remember The "Grandmother's Apology"
© Horace Smith
And Willie, my eldest born, is gone, you say, little Anne,
Ruddy and white, and strong on his legs, he looks like a man;
He was only fourscore years, quite young, when he died;
I ought to have gone before, but must wait for time and tide.
The Fen-Fire
© Madison Julius Cawein
The misty rain makes dim my face,
The night's black cloak is o'er me;
I tread the dripping cypress-place,
A flickering light before me.
Ariadne Waking
© James Henry Leigh Hunt
The moist and quiet morn was scarcely breaking,
When Ariadne in her bower was waking;
Mary, the Maid o' the Tay
© William Topaz McGonagall
Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Tay,
Whaur me and my Mary oft did stray;
But noo she is dead and gone far away,
Sae I maun mourn for lovely Mary, the Maid o' the Tay,
Book Of Suleika - Suleika 01
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
THE sun appears! A glorious sight!
The crescent-moon clings round him now.
The Sea-Maids Song
© Augusta Davies Webster
"OH, love me! love me!"
The sea-maid sings ori the pebbly shore
Dornenlieder
© Charles Godfrey Leland
I.
FOR efery Rose dot ploome in spring,
Dey say an maid is porn;
For efery pain dot Rose vill make
Women In Love
© Donald Justice
It always comes, and when it comes they know.
To will it is enough to bring them there.
The knack is this, to fasten and not let go.
The Last Bison
© Charles Mair
A gentle vale, with rippling aspens clad,
Yet open to the breeze, invited rest.
So there I lay, and watched the sun's fierce beams
Reverberate in wreathed ethereal flame;
Or gazed upon the leaves which buzzed o'erhead,
Like tiny wings in simulated flight.
From A Bachelors Private Journal
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
SWEET Mary, I have never breathed
The love it were in vain to name;
Though round my heart a serpent wreathed,
I smiled, or strove to smile, the same.
Three Verse Passages From A Prose Meditation
© Thomas Parnell
On verdurd trees ye silver blossoms grow
Whose leaves atop their perfect whiteness show
& faintly streak with stains of red below
The western breeze steales ore ye shady grove
to sigh near roses as insnard by love.
Domestic Peace
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Tell me, on what holy ground
May domestic peace be found?
Halcyon daughter of the skies,
Far on fearful wing she flies,
