Love poems
/ page 469 of 1285 /There Is Still Splendour
© Robert Laurence Binyon
O when will life taste clean again? For the air
Is fouled: the world sees, hears; and each day brings
Vile fume that would corrupt eternal things,
Were they corruptible. Harsh trumpets blare
Lord Nevil's Advice
© Ada Cambridge
"Friend," quoth Lord Nevil, "thou art young
To face the world, and thou art blind
To subtle ways of womankind;
The meshes thou wilt fall among.
Lament
© Katharine Tynan
Suvla, name of bitterness,
Myrrh and aloes in the mouth,
Salt as Dead Sea water is!
All that splendour, all that youth,
All that nobleness! Oh, waste
Of the dearest, loveliest!
Oh, No More, No More...
© John Ford
Oh, no more, no more, too late
Sighs are spent; the burning tapers
Of a life as chaste as fate,
Pure as are unwritten papers,
Are burned out; no heat, no light
Now remains; tis ever night.
Duty Surviving Self-Love, The Only Sure Friend Of Declining Life. A Soliloquy
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Unchanged within, to see all changed without,
Is a blank lot and hard to bear, no doubt.
Yet why at others' Wanings should'st thou fret?
Then only might'st thou feel a just regret,
A Northern Vigil
© Bliss William Carman
HERE by the gray north sea,
In the wintry heart of the wild,
Comes the old dream of thee,
Guendolen, mistress and child.
The Little Czar
© Henry Lawson
Oh, Great White Czar of Russia, who hid your face and ran,
Youve flung afar the grandest chance that ever came to man!
You might have been, and could have beenah, think it to your shame!
The Czar of all the Russias, in fact as well as name.
The Muses Threnodie: First Muse
© Henry Adamson
Of Mr George Ruthven the tears and mournings,
Amidst the giddie course of fortune's turnings,
Upon his dear friend's death, Mr John Gall,
Where his rare ornaments bear a part, and wretched Gabions all.
The Gift
© Sara Teasdale
What can I give you, my lord, my lover,
You who have given the world to me,
Showed me the light and the joy that cover
The wild sweet earth and the restless sea?
Baby
© Harry Graham
Baby in the cauldron fell, --
See the grief on Mother's brow;
Mother loved her darling well, --
Darling's quite hard-boiled by now.
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part IV: Vita Nova: CX
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
THE OASIS OF SIDI KHALED
How the earth burns! Each pebble underfoot
Is as a living thing with power to wound.
The white sand quivers, and the footfall mute
On A Scene In Tuscany
© Richard Monckton Milnes
What good were it to dim the pleasure--glow,
That lights thy cheek, fair Girl, in scenes like these,
By shameful facts, and piteous histories?
While we enjoy, what matters what we know?
Joy Of My Life While Left Me Here!
© Henry Vaughan
Joy of my life while left me here!
And still my love!
When I Loved You
© Thomas Moore
When I loved you, I can't but allow
I had many an exquisite minute;
But the scorn that I feel for you now
Hath even more luxury in it!
Lamia Unveiled
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
HER step is soft as a fay's footfall,
And her eyes are wonderful founts of blue;
But I've seen that small foot spurning hearts,
And the soul that burns so strangely through
Those orbs of blue,
O! is't a human soul at all?
A Reed Shaken In The Wind
© Madison Julius Cawein
To say to hope,--Take all from me,
And grant me naught:
The rose, the song, the melody,
The word, the thought:
Then all my life bid me be slave,--
Is all I crave.
Italy : 9. The Alps
© Samuel Rogers
Who first beholds those everlasting clouds,
Seed-time and harvest, morning, noon and night,
Still where they were, steadfast, immovable;
Those mighty hills, so shadowy, so sublime,