Love poems
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What Makes An Artist
© Edgar Albert Guest
We got to talking art one day, discussing in a general way
How some can match with brush and paint the glory of a tree,
And some in stone can catch the things of which the dreamy poet sings,
While others seem to have no way to tell the joys they see.
The Prayer-Seeker
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Along the aisle where prayer was made,
A woman, all in black arrayed,
The Pleasures of Imagination: Book The First
© Mark Akenside
With what attractive charms this goodly frame
Of nature touches the consenting hearts
Fragment On Painters
© Rupert Brooke
There is an evil which that Race attaints
Who represent Gods World with oily paints,
Expectation
© Edgar Albert Guest
Most folks, as I've noticed, in pleasure an' strife,
Are always expecting too much out of life.
The Taste of Morning
© Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
Being closer and closer is the desire
of the body. Don't wish for union!
Sonnet 61: Oft With True Sighs
© Sir Philip Sidney
Oft with true sighs, oft with uncalled tears,
Now with slow words, now with dumb eloquence
I Stella's eyes assail, invade her ears;
But this at last is her sweet breath'd defense:
A Voyage To Cythera
© Charles Baudelaire
My heart soared with joy, like a bird in flight,
haunting the rigging sliding by:
The ship swayed under a cloudless sky,
like an angel, dazed by radiant light.
In Memoriam
© Ralph Waldo Emerson
Yet not of these I muse
In this ancestral place,
But of a kindred face
That never joy or hope shall here diffuse.
Sonnet XLVIII. To Mrs. ****
© Charlotte Turner Smith
NO more my wearied soul attempts to stray
From sad reality and vain regret,
Nor courts enchanting fiction to allay
Sorrows that sense refuses to forget:
To Lydia
© Eugene Field
When, Lydia, you (once fond and true,
But now grown cold and supercilious)
Praise Telly's charms of neck and arms--
Well, by the dog! it makes me bilious!
At William Maclennan's Grave
© Duncan Campbell Scott
Here where the cypress tall
Shadows the stucco wall,
Bronze and deep,
Where the chrysanthemums blow,
And the roses--blood and snow--
He lies asleep.
The Rising Of The Moon
© Madison Julius Cawein
THE Day brims high its ewer
Of blue with starry light,
And crowns as King that hewer
Of clouds (which take their flight
The Bill of the Ages
© Henry Lawson
He has rowed to a wreck, when the lifeboat failed, with Jim in a crazy boat;
He has given his lifebelt many a time, and sunk that another might float.
He has stood em off while others escaped, when the niggers rushed from the hill,
And rescue parties who came too late have found what was left of Bill.
In A Railroad Station
© Sara Teasdale
We stood in the shrill electric light,
Dumb and sick in the whirling din
We who had all of love to say
And a single second to say it in.
