Love poems
/ page 493 of 1285 /Spring in New Zealand
© Hubert Church
Thou wilt come with suddenness,
Like a gull between the waves,
April
© Archibald Lampman
Pale season, watcher in unvexed suspense,
Still priestess of the patient middle day,
AN EPITAPH On his most honoured Friend Richard Earl of Dorset
© Henry King
Let no profane ignoble foot tread neer
This hallow'd peece of earth, Dorset lies here.
A small sad relique of a noble spirit,
Free as the air, and ample as his merit;
Elegy VIII. He Describes His Early Love of Poetry, and Its Consequences
© William Shenstone
Ah me! what envious magic thins my fold?
What mutter'd spell retards their late increase?
Such lessening fleeces must the swain behold,
That e'er with Doric pipe essays to please.
A Story Of Doom: Book VIII.
© Jean Ingelow
Then one ran, crying, while Niloiya wrought,
"The Master cometh!" and she went within
To adorn herself for meeting him. And Shem
Went forth and talked with Japhet in the field,
And said, "Is it well, my brother?" He replied,
"Well! and, I pray you, is it well at home?"
The Sum
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
A little dreaming by the way,
A little toiling day by day;
A little pain, a little strife,
A little joy,--and that is life.
The Lame Brother
© Charles Lamb
My parents sleep both in one grave;
My only friend's a brother.
The dearest things upon the earth
We are to one another.
Reason says love says
© Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
Reason says, I will beguile him with the tongue.; Love says,
Be silent. I will beguile him with the soul.
The soul says to the heart, Go, do not laugh at me and yourself.
What is there that is not his, that I may beguile him
Carolan's Prophecy
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Of bridal melody, soon dash'd with grief,
As if some wailing spirit in the strings
Met and o'ermaster'd him: but yielding then
To the strong prophet-impulse, mournfully,
Like moaning waters o'er the harp he pour'd
The trouble of his haunted soul, and sangâ
Roses
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
Oh, wind of the spring-time, oh, free wind of May,
When blossoms and bird-song are rife;
Oh, joy for the season, and joy for the day,
That gave me the roses of life, of life,
That gave me the roses of life.
Between the Sunken Sun and the New Moon
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
BETWEEN the sunken sun and the new moon,
I stood in fields through which a rivulet ran
The Angel In The House. Book II. Canto XII.
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
Preludes
I The Married Lover
O Navio Negreiro part 5 (With English Translation)
© Antonio de Castro Alves
Senhor Deus dos desgraçados!
Dizei-me vós, Senhor Deus!
On Revisiting a Scene of Early Life
© Alaric Alexander Watts
It is the same clear dazzling scene,
Perhaps the grass is scarce as green;
Perhaps the river's troubled voice,
Does not so plainly say âRejoice.â ~ W. B. PROCTER.
Loves Harvest
© Alfred Austin
Nay, do not quarrel with the seasons, dear,
Nor make an enemy of friendly Time.
The Recluse
© James Montgomery
A fountain issuing into light
Before a marble palace, threw
To heaven its column, pure and bright,
Returning thence in showers of dew;
But soon a humbler course it took,
And glide away a nameless brook.