Love poems
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Kings Chapel
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
Is it a weanling's weakness for the past
That in the stormy, rebel-breeding town,
Swept clean of relics by the levelling blast,
No Time Like The Old Time
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
THERE is no time like the old time, when you and I were young,
When the buds of April blossomed, and the birds of spring-time sung!
The garden's brightest glories by summer suns are nursed,
But oh, the sweet, sweet violets, the flowers that opened first!
Geraldine
© Madison Julius Cawein
Ah, Geraldine, lost Geraldine,
That night of love, when first we met,
You have forgotten, Geraldine--
I never dreamed you would forget.
To Thyrza
© George Gordon Byron
Without a stone to mark the spot,
And say, what Truth might well have said,
By all, save one, perchance forgot,
Ah! wherefore art thou lowly laid?
To Italy. (From Filicaja)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Italy! Italy! thou who'rt doomed to wear
The fatal gift of beauty and possess
Garden Gossip
© Madison Julius Cawein
Thin, chisel-fine a cricket chipped
The crystal silence into sound;
And where the branches dreamed and dripped
A grasshopper its dagger stripped
And on the humming darkness ground.
Give Me That Old Time Religion
© Anonymous
Give me that old time religion
Tis the old time religion,
Tis the old time religion,
And it's good enough for me.
Rewi to Grey: The Old Maori Chiefs Last Message
© Henry Lawson
We have lived till these times, brother,
We who lived in this;
The Wind-Harp
© James Russell Lowell
I treasure in secret some long, fine hair
Of tenderest brown, but so inwardly golden
To An Unfortunate Woman, Whom The Author Had Known In The Days Of Her Innocence
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Myrtle leaf, that ill besped
Pinest in the gladsome ray,
Soiled beneath the common tread
Far from thy protecting spray!
While I May
© Sara Teasdale
Wind and hail and veering rain,
Driven mist that veils the day,
Soul's distress and body's pain,
I would bear you while I may.
The King Of Denmark's Sons
© William Morris
In Denmark gone is many a year,
So fair upriseth the rim of the sun,
Two sons of Gorm the King there were,
So grey is the sea when day is done.
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part IV: Vita Nova: LXXXIV
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
IN ANNIVERSARIO MORTIS
If I can bring no tribute of fresh tears
To mingle with the dust which covers thee;
If in this latest dawn of evil years
Beginning Of End
© Francis Thompson
She was aweary of the hovering
Of Love's incessant tumultuous wing;
The Memorial Pillar
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Hast thou thro' Eden's wild-wood vales, pursued
Each mountain-scene, magnificently rude,
Nor with attention's lifted eye, revered
That modest stone, by pious Pembroke rear'd,
Which still records, beyond the pencil's power,
The silent sorrows of a parting hour? ~ ROGERS.
Lines On Hearing That Lady Byron Was Ill
© George Gordon Byron
And thou wert sad - yet I was not with thee;
And thou wert sick, and yet I was not near;
Methought that joy and health alone could be
Where I was not - and pain and sorrow here!
