Love poems
/ page 429 of 1285 /Wet Weather
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
IT is the English in me that loves the soft, wet weather--
The cloud upon the mountain, the mist upon the sea,
The sea-gull flying low and near with rain upon each feather,
The scent of deep, green woodlands where the buds are breaking free.
The Trial
© Nizar Qabbani
The East receives my songs, some praise, some curse
To each of them my gratitude I bear
For I've avenged the blood of each slain woman
and haven offered her who is in fear.
The Battle of Lexington
© Sidney Lanier
Now haste thee while the way is clear,
Paul Revere!
Haste, Dawes! but haste thee not, O Sun!
To Lexington.
The Hill Of San Sebastian
© William Henry Drummond
Good job I was cryin' quiet den, an' Louis
can't hear at all
But I kiss de poor feller an' laugh, an' never
say not'ing-me.
A Winter's Tale
© Dylan Thomas
It is a winter's tale
That the snow blind twilight ferries over the lakes
And floating fields from the farm in the cup of the vales,
Gliding windless through the hand folded flakes,
The pale breath of cattle at the stealthy sail,
Louis XVII (King Louis XVII)
© Victor Marie Hugo
On entendit des voix qui disaient dans la nue :
" Jeune ange, Dieu sourit à ta gloire ingénue;
Viens, rentre dans ses bras pour ne plus en sortir;
Et vous, qui du Très-Haut racontez les louanges,
Séraphins, prophètes, archanges,
Courbez-vous, c'est un Roi; chantez, c'est un Martyr! "
Wendover
© Jean Ingelow
Uplifted and lone, set apart with our love
On the crest of a soft swelling down
Cloud shadows that meet on the grass at our feet
Sail on above Wendover town.
Ronsard To His Mistress
© William Makepeace Thackeray
"Quand vous serez bien vielle, le soir a la chandelle
Assise aupres du feu devisant et filant,
Direz, chantant mes vers en vous esmerveillant,
Ronsard m'a celebre du temps que j'etois belle."
His Gippsland Girl
© William Henry Ogilvie
Now, money was scarce and work was slack
And love to his heart Crept in,
Twenty-One Distichs About Children
© Eli Siegel
1. Bernice thinks a little.
Bernice is two months old; the world is new for her.
Ah, will her parents' angry world quite do for her?
The Cane-Bottom'd Chair
© William Makepeace Thackeray
In tattered old slippers that toast at the bars,
And a ragged old jacket perfumed with cigars,
Away from the world, and its toils and its cares,
I've a snug little kingdom up four pair of stairs.
The Winters Walk
© Caroline Norton
Gleam'd the red sun athwart the misty haze
Which veil'd the cold earth from its loving gaze,
Feeble and sad as Hope in Sorrow's hour,
But for THY soul it still had warmth and power;
Not to its cheerless beauty wert thou blind,
To the keen eye of thy poetic mind
Compensation
© Celia Thaxter
In that new world toward which our feet are set,
Shall we find aught to make our hearts forget
I am a sculptor, a molder of form
© Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
I am a sculptor, a molder of form.
In every moment I shape an idol.
The Second Monarchy, being the Persian, began underCyrus, Darius being his Uncle and Father-in-la
© Anne Bradstreet
Cyrus Cambyses Son of Persia King,
Whom Lady Mandana did to him bring,
Little Nellie's Pa
© Alma Frances McCollum
OH! me and Nellie Barker live way down on William Street,
I'll bet you couldn't find another youngster half so sweet;
Tale XI
© George Crabbe
creed;
And those of stronger minds should never speak
(In his opinion) what might hurt the weak:
A man may smile, but still he should attend
His hour at church, and be the Church's friend,
What there he thinks conceal, and what he hears
The Hawk
© Leon Gellert
Upon a dark crag peering
Through half-eclipsed eye,
An eye unkind,
Dost meet the wind
With lifted head all-hearing
In the algid sky.