Love poems
/ page 484 of 1285 /
Lese-Amour
© John Hay
How well my heart remembers
Beside these camp-fire embers
The eyes that smiled so far away,--
The joy that was November's.
The Princess: A Medley: Tears, Idle Tears
© Alfred Tennyson
Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,
Tears from the depth of some divine despair
Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,
In looking on the happy Autumn-fields,
And thinking of the days that are no more.
The Chief
© William Ernest Henley
His brow spreads large and placid, and his eye
Is deep and bright, with steady looks that still.
The Mountain Maid
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Half seated on a mossy crag,
Half crouching in the heather;
A Serenade To My Mother
© Yeghishe Charents
I remember your old face
My precious mother and very sweet
With light wrinkles and lines
My precious one and very sweet.
Constance
© Madison Julius Cawein
Beyond the orchard, in the lane,
The crested red-bird sings again--
Suche Waiwarde Waies Hath Love That Moste Parte In Discorde
© Henry Howard
Suche waiwarde waies hath love that moste parte in discorde;
Our willes do stand wherby our hartes but seldom dooth accorde.
The Breasts of Mnasidice
© Pierre Louys
Carefully she opened her tunic with one
hand and offered me her warm soft breasts as
one offers a pair of living pigeons to the
goddess. 'Love them well,' she said to me,
Little Boatie
© Henry Van Dyke
A Slumber Song For The Fishermans Child
Furl your sail, my little boatie;
Weighing The Baby
© Ethel Lynn Eliot Beers
"How many pounds does the baby weigh -
Baby who came but a month ago?
How many pounds from the crowning curl
To the rosy point of the restless toe?"
The Beggar Speaks
© Vachel Lindsay
Come, eat the bread of idleness,
Come, sit beside the spring:
Some of the flowers will keep awake,
Some of the birds will sing.
On the Marriage of his Royal Highness Frederick Prince of Wales, Extract
© Richard Owen Cambridge
Nor did there on the other side, I ween,
Forms though more soft, less heav'nly appear;
The Tent On The Beach
© John Greenleaf Whittier
I would not sin, in this half-playful strain,--
Too light perhaps for serious years, though born
To Lady Annabella Noel
© Frances Anne Kemble
Wand'ring with thee in the delicious land,
What visions meet me of those far-off years,
At Vespers
© Madison Julius Cawein
High up in the organ-story
A girl stands slim and fair;
And touched with the casement's glory
Gleams out her radiant hair.
"Six years, six cycles of dead hours"
© Richard Monckton Milnes
Six years, six cycles of dead hours,
Six falls of leaves, six births of flowers!
It is not that, you know full well,
That makes my labouring bosom swell,
Inspiration
© Samuel Johnson
LIFE of Ages, richly poured,
Love of God, unspent and free,
Flowing in the Prophets word
And the Peoples liberty!
