Love poems
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The Child Of The Islands - Spring
© Caroline Norton
I.
WHAT shalt THOU know of Spring? A verdant crown
Of young boughs waving o'er thy blooming head:
White tufted Guelder-roses, showering down
Sonnet VI: The Kiss
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
What smouldering senses in death's sick delay
Or seizure of malign vicissitude
Naples
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Fold her, O Father, in Thine arms,
And let her henceforth be
A messenger of love between
Our human hearts and Thee.
Mid Atlantic
© Robert Laurence Binyon
If this were all!--A dream of dread
Ran through me; I watched the waves that fled
Pale--crested out of hollows black,
The hungry lift of helpless waves,
A Death in the Bush
© Henry Kendall
For, ere the early settlers came and stocked
These wilds with sheep and kine, the grasses grew
So that they took the passing pilgrim in
And whelmed him, like a running sea, from sight.
The Return Of Peace
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
They could not quell the grieved and shuddering air,
That breathed about me its forlorn despair:
It almost seemed as if stern Triumph sped
To one whose hopes were dead,
And flaunting there his fortune's ruddier grace,
Smote--with a taunt--wan Misery in the face!
Illicit
© Conrad Aiken
Of what she said to me that nightno matter.
The strange thing came next day.
Gracia
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Nay, nay, Antonio! nay, thou shalt not blame her,
My Gracia, who hath so deserted me.
Thou art my friend, but if thou dost defame her
I shall not hesitate to challenge thee.
In Plaster
© Sylvia Plath
I shall never get out of this! There are two of me now:
This new absolutely white person and the old yellow one,
The Better Lot
© Madison Julius Cawein
Her life was bound to crutches: pale and bent,
But smiling ever, she would go and come:
For of her soul GOD made an instrument
Of strength and comfort to an humble home.
Postman Cheval
© André Breton
We are the birds always charmed by you from the top of these belvederes
And that each night form a blossoming branch between your shoulders and the arms of your well beloved wheelbarrow
Of Death
© John Bunyan
Death, as a king rampant and stout
The world he dare engage;
He conquers all, yea, and doth rout
The great, strong, wise, and sage.
Fourth Sunday In Lent
© John Keble
When Nature tries her finest touch,
Weaving her vernal wreath,
Mark ye, how close she veils her round,
Not to be traced by sight or sound,
Nor soiled by ruder breath?
Before The Mirror
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
WHERE in her chamber by the Southern sea,
Her taper's light shone soft and silvery,
Fair as a planet mirrored in the main,
Fresh as a blossom bathed by April rain,
A Tale
© John Logan
Where pastoral Tweed, renown'd in song,
With rapid murmur flows;
In Caledonia's classic ground,
The hall of Arthur rose.
The Origin of the Sail
© Amelia Opie
"Sweet maid! on whom my wishes rest,
My morning thought, my midnight dream,
O grant Lysander's fond request,
And let those eyes with mercy beam!
The Purple Valleys
© Madison Julius Cawein
Far in the purple valleys of illusion
I see her waiting, like the soul of music,
The Road Builder
© Edgar Albert Guest
I DO not care for garments fine,
I do not care for medals bright;
Lovely Chance
© Sara Teasdale
O LOVELY chance, what can I do
To give my gratefulness to you?
You rise between myself and me
With a wise persistency;
