Love poems
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The Phantom Light Of The Baie Des Chaleurs
© Arthur Wentworth Hamilton Eaton
Strange is the tale that the fishermen tell,
They say that a ball of fire fell
Straight from the sky, with crash and roar,
Lighting the bay from shore to shore;
That the ship, with a shudder and a groan,
Sank through the waves to the caverns lone
Growth
© Peter McArthur
THE dumb earth yearns for the expressive seed,
The fruit fulfilled gives ear to her desire
To the Nightingale
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Sister of love-lorn Poets, Philomel!
How many Bards in city garret pent,
Battle Of Charleston Harbor, April 7, 1863
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
TWO hours, or more, beyond the prime of a blithe April day,
The Northmen's mailed "Invincibles" steamed up fair Charleston Bay;
They came in sullen file, and slow, low-breasted on the wave,
Black as a midnight front of storm, and silent as the grave.
An Essay On The Different Stiles Of Poetry
© Thomas Parnell
I hate the Vulgar with untuneful Mind,
Hearts uninspir'd, and Senses unrefin'd.
Hence ye Prophane, I raise the sounding String,
And Bolingbroke descends to hear me sing.
Sonnet VII
© Caroline Norton
LIKE an enfranchised bird, who wildly springs,
With a keen sparkle in his glancing eye
And a strong effort in his quivering wings,
Up to the blue vault of the happy sky,--
Community
© John Donne
Good we must love, and must hate ill,
For ill is ill, and good good still ;
But there are things indifferent,
Which wee may neither hate, nor love,
But one, and then another prove,
As we shall find our fancy bent.
To The Boy
© Edgar Albert Guest
I have no wish, my little lad,
To climb the towering heights of fame.
To Sir William Davenant
© Abraham Cowley
UPON HIS TWO FIRST BOOKS OF GONDIBERT
FINISHED BEFORE HIS VOYAGE TO AMERICA.
Hush'd Be the Camps Today
© Walt Whitman
Hush'd be the camps today,
And soldiers let us drape our war-worn weapons,
And each with musing soul retire to celebrate,
Our dear commander's death.
Evangeline: Part The First. III.
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
BENT like a laboring oar, that toils in the surf of the ocean,
Bent, but not broken, by age was the form of the notary public;
"All through the day at my machine"
© Lesbia Harford
All through the day at my machine
There still keeps going
A strange little tune through heart and head
As I sit sewing:
Now Spring Has Clad The Grove In Green
© Robert Burns
Now spring has clad the grove in green,
And strew'd the lea wi' flowers;
A German Students Funeral Hymn
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
WITH steady march across the daisy meadow,
And by the churchyard wall we go;
But leave behind, beneath the linden shadow,
One, who no more will rise and go:
Farewell, our brother, here sleeping in dust,
Till thou shalt wake again, wake with the just.
The Cathedral Of Rheims
© Emile Verhaeren
He who walks through the meadows of Champagne
At noon in Fall, when leaves like gold appear,
Retro Santhanas
© Edith Nesbit
"REFUSE, refrain: for this is not the love
The Annunciation Angel warned you of;
This is the little candle, not the sun;
It burns, but will not warm, unhappy one!"
Naucratia; Or Naval Dominion. Part I
© Henry James Pye
By love of opulence and science led,
Now Commerce wide her peaceful empire spread,
And seas, obedient to the pilot's art,
But join'd the regions which they seem'd to part;
Free intercourse disarm'd the barbarous mind,
Tam'd savage hate, and humaniz'd mankind.
In Memoriam A. H. H.: 95
© Alfred Tennyson
While now we sang old songs that peal'd
From knoll to knoll, where, couch'd at ease,
The white kine glimmer'd, and the trees
Laid their dark arms about the field.
To An Unfortunate Woman At The Theatre
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Maiden, that with sullen brow
Sitt'st behind those virgins gay,
Like a scorched and mildew'd bough,
Leafless mid the blooms of May.
