Love poems
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Rose Dolores
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
THE moan of Rose Dolores, she made her plaint to me,
"My hair is lifted by the wind that sweeps in from the sea;
I taste its salt upon my lips--O jailer, set me free!"
The Gulf of All Human Possessions
© Jonathan Swift
Come hither, and behold the fruits,
Vain man! of all thy vain pursuits.
Take wise advice, and look behind,
Bring all past actions to thy mind.
Afterglow
© Alice Guerin Crist
A magic wrought of dying dreams
A wizard light that creeps and glows;
Painting grey hills and sluggish streams
In tints of gold and rose
The Disenthralled
© John Greenleaf Whittier
HE had bowed down to drunkenness,
An abject worshipper:
The pride of manhood's pulse had grown
Too faint and cold to stir;
In Sanctuary
© Edith Nesbit
THE young Spring air was strong like wine,
The sky reflected in your eyes
Was of a blue as deep-divine
As ever glowed in southern skies.
Ad Astra
© George Essex Evans
Cleaving the blue abysmal without sound,
Pressed on my soul I felt the awful seals
Of that vast Cosmos without depth or bound,
Blazing with golden wheels.
My Mother
© Francis Ledwidge
God made my mother on an April day,
From sorrow and the mist along the sea,
Lost birds' and wanderers' songs and ocean spray,
And the moon loved her wandering jealously.
The Visionary
© Emily Jane Brontë
Silent is the house: all are laid asleep:
One alone looks out oer the snow-wreaths deep,
Limbo
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
The sole true Something--This ! In Limbo Den
It frightens Ghosts as Ghosts here frighten men--
For skimming in the wake it mock'd the care
Of the old Boat-God for his Farthing Fare;
Of The Nature Of Things: Book III - Part 03 - The Soul Is Mortal
© Lucretius
Now come: that thou mayst able be to know
That minds and the light souls of all that live
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: I
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
When is life other than a tragedy,
Whether it is played in tears from the first scene,
In sable robes and grief's mute pageantry,
For loves that died ere they had ever been,
Amyntor From Beyond The Sea To Alexis. A Dialogue
© Richard Lovelace
Amyntor.
Alexis! ah Alexis! can it be,
Though so much wet and drie
Doth drowne our eye,
Thou keep'st thy winged voice from me?
Concealment
© Abraham Cowley
No; to what purpose should I speak?
No, wretched heart! swell till you break.
La Belle Dame Sans Merci (Original version )
© John Keats
Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge has withered from the lake,
And no birds sing.
A Ghost At The Dancing
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
Many here knew and loved thee--I nor loved,
Scarce knew--yet in thy place a shadow glides,
And a face shapes itself from empty air,
Watching the dancers, grave and quiet-eyed--
Eyes that now see the angels evermore,
Amiel, Amiel.
