Love poems

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Spring in New Zealand

© Hubert Church

Thou wilt come with suddenness,  


 Like a gull between the waves,  

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"The Curtains Now Are Drawn"

© Thomas Hardy

I

The curtains now are drawn,

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April

© Archibald Lampman

Pale season, watcher in unvexed suspense,

Still priestess of the patient middle day,

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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;

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At Nineveh

© Madison Julius Cawein

Written for my friend Walter S. Mathews.


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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.

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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?"

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Shelley’s Death

© Alfred Austin

What! And it was so! Thou wert then

Death-stricken from behind,

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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.

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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.

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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

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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 sang–

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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.

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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

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Chanson Without Music

© Oliver Wendell Holmes

BY THE PROFESSOR EMERITUS OF DEAD AND LIVE LANGUAGES


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O Navio Negreiro part 5 (With English Translation)

© Antonio de Castro Alves

Senhor Deus dos desgraçados! 

Dizei-me vós, Senhor Deus! 

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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 ‘Rejoice.’ ~ W. B. PROCTER.

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Love’s Harvest

© Alfred Austin

Nay, do not quarrel with the seasons, dear,

Nor make an enemy of friendly Time.

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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.