Love poems
/ page 413 of 1285 /The Folk I Love
© Lesbia Harford
All the dreary afternoon
I must clutch
At the strength to love like them
Not too much
Caracol (A Shell)
© Rubén Dario
En la playa he encontrado un caracol de oro
macizo y recamado de las perlas más finas;
Europa le ha tocado con sus manos divinas
cuando cruzó las ondas sobre el celeste toro.
Tale X
© George Crabbe
It is the Soul that sees: the outward eyes
Present the object, but the Mind descries;
And thence delight, disgust, or cool indiff'rence
A Preaching From A Spanish Ballad
© George Meredith
Ladies who in chains of wedlock
Chafe at an unequal yoke,
Not to nightingales give hearing;
Better this, the raven's croak.
In The Forum
© Alfred Austin
The last warm gleams of sunset fade
From cypress spire and stonepine dome,
And, in the twilight's deepening shade,
Lingering, I scan the wrecks of Rome.
On The Nature Of Love
© Rabindranath Tagore
The night is black and the forest has no end;
a million people thread it in a million ways.
Our Fathers Business:
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
O CHRIST-CHILD, Everlasting, Holy One,
Sufferer of all the sorrow of this world,
Redeemer of the sin of all this world,
Who by Thy death brought'st life into this world,--
O Christ, hear us!
Sonnet XIII "I Thank You, Kind and Best Beloved Friend"
© Henry Timrod
I thank you, kind and best belov
"ed friend,
With the same thanks one murmurs to a sister,
The Libertine
© Aphra Behn
A THOUSAND martyrs I have made,
All sacrificed to my desire,
A thousand beauties have betray'd
That languish in resistless fire:
The untamed heart to hand I brought,
And fix'd the wild and wand'ring thought.
Imr El Kais
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Weep, ah weep love's losing, love's with its dwelling--place
set where the hills divide Dakhúli and Háumali.
Túdiha and Mikrat! There the hearths--stones of her
stand where the South and North winds cross--weave the sand--furrows.
The Demon
© Mikhail Lermontov
...Cold and regretless shalt thou view this sphere,
Where crimes inseparable from fate,
Good Friday
© John Keble
Is it not strange, the darkest hour
That ever dawned on sinful earth
Should touch the heart with softer power
For comfort than an angel's mirth?
That to the Cross the mourner's eye should turn
Sooner than where the stars of Christmas burn?
Love reckons by itselfalone
© Emily Dickinson
Love reckons by itselfalone
"As large as I"relate the Sun
To One who never felt it blaze
Itself is all the like it has
The Heroic Enthusiasts - Part The Second =Third Dialogue=.
© Giordano Bruno
LIB. Reclining in the shade of a cypress-tree, the enthusiast finding
his mind free from other thoughts, it happened that the heart and the
eyes spoke together as if they were animals and substances of different
intellects and senses, and they made lament of that which was the
beginning of his torment and which consumed his soul.
The Songs Of The Dead Men To The Three Dancers
© Robinson Jeffers
I. TO DESIRE
(Here a dancer enters and dances.)