Love poems
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The First-Born
© Alaric Alexander Watts
Never did music sink into my soul
So âsilver sweet,â as when thy first weak wail
On Hearing The Princess Royal Sing
© Victor Marie Hugo
In thine abode so high
Where yet one scarce can breathe,
Dear child, most tenderly
A soft song thou dost wreathe.
An Epistle To Dr. Moore
© Helen Maria Williams
Whether dispensing hope, and ease
To the pale victim of disease,
Or in the social crowd you sit,
And charm the group with sense and wit,
Moore's partial ear will not disdain
Attention to my artless strain.
Breitmann As An Uhlan. V. Breitmanns Last Party.
© Charles Godfrey Leland
VOT gollops at mitnight,
Mit h'roolah and yell,
Like der teufel's wild yager
Boorst loose out of hell?
Stanzas Written By Thomson On The Blank Leaf Of A Copy Of His 'Seasons' Sent By Him To Mr. Lyttleton
© James Thomson
Go, little book, and find our Friend,
Who Nature and the Muses loves,
Who cares the public virtues blend
With all the softness of the groves.
The Merryman and His Maid
© William Schwenck Gilbert
[HE] I have a song to sing, O!
[SHE] Sing me your song, O!
A Love Secret
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Love has its secrets, joy has its revealings.
How shall I speak of that which love has hid?
If my beloved shall return to greet me,
Deeds shall be done for her none ever did.
An Appearance
© Sylvia Plath
The smile of iceboxes annihilates me.
Such blue currents in the veins of my loved one!
I hear her great heart purr.
The Martyrdom Of St. Christina, By Vincenzo Catena, In The Church Of Santa Maria Mater Domini, At Ve
© Richard Monckton Milnes
ST. CHRISTINA.
(KNEELING.)
I knew, I knew, it would be so,
That, in this long--expected hour,
Trysting Time
© Confucius
A pretty girl at time o' gloaming
Hath whispered me to go and meet her
Without the city gate.
I love her, but she tarries coming.
Shall I return, or stay and greet her?
I burn, and wait.
The Wild Colonial Boy
© Anonymous
'Tis of a wild Colonial Boy, Jack Doolan was his name,
Of poor but honest parents he was born in Castlemaine.
He was his father's only hope, his mother's pride and joy,
And dearly did his parents love the wild Colonial Boy.
The Worlds Exile
© Richard Monckton Milnes
Well, I will tell you, kind adviser,
Why thus I ever roam
In distant lands, nor wish to guide
My footsteps to the fair hill--side
Where stands my sacred home.
Si Mis Manos Pudieran Deshojar -- With English Translation
© Federico Garcia Lorca
Yo pronuncio tu nombre,
En esta noche oscura,
Y tu nombre me suena
Más lejano que nunca.
Más lejano que todas las estrellas
Y más doliente que la mansa lluvia.
Autumn Days
© William Henry Drummond
In dreams of the night I hear the call
Of wild duck scudding across the lake,
In dreams I see the old convent wall,
Where Ottawa's waters surge and break.
Teddy O'Neale
© Eliza Cook
I've come to the cabin he danced his wild jigs in,
As neat a mud palace as ever was seen;
The Glory of the Day Was In Her Face
© James Weldon Johnson
The glory of the day was in her face,
The beauty of the night was in her eyes.
And over all her loveliness, the grace
Of Morning blushing in the early skies.
The Wind Of Spring
© Madison Julius Cawein
The wind that breathes of columbines
And celandines that crowd the rocks;
That shakes the balsam of the pines
With laughter from his airy locks,
Stops at my city door and knocks.
