Love poems
/ page 496 of 1285 /Love and Age
© Thomas Love Peacock
I play'd with you 'mid cowslips blowing,
When I was six and you were four;
A Womans Sonnets: X
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Love, ere I go, forgive me each least wrong,
Each trouble I unwittingly have wrought.
My heart, my life, my tears to thee belong;
Yet have I erred, maybe, through too fond thought.
Give Me A Lass With A Lump Of Land
© Allan Ramsay
Gi'e me a lass with a lump of land,
And we for life shall gang thegither;
To A Young Mother On The Birth Of Her First Born Child
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Young mother! proudly throbs thine heart, and well may it rejoice,
Well mayst thou raise to Heaven above in grateful prayer thy voice:
A gift hath been bestowed on thee, a gift of priceless worth,
Far dearer to thy womans heart than all the wealth of earth.
The Test of Loveis Death
© Emily Dickinson
The Test of Loveis Death
Our Lord"so loved"it saith
What Largest Loverhath
Anotherdoth
The Columbiad: Book III
© Joel Barlow
His eldest hope, young Rocha, at his call,
Resigns his charge within the temple wall;
In whom began, with reverend forms of awe,
The functions grave of priesthood and of law,
Address To A Maid
© Charles Mair
If those twin gardens of delight,
Thine eyes, were ever in my sight,
To The Memory Of Thomas Shipley
© John Greenleaf Whittier
GONE to thy Heavenly Father's rest!
The flowers of Eden round thee blowing,
And on thine ear the murmurs blest
Of Siloa's waters softly flowing!
Sonnet VI
© Caroline Norton
WHERE the red wine-cup floweth, there art thou!
Where luxury curtains out the evening sky;--
Triumphant Mirth sits flush'd upon thy brow,
And ready laughter lurks within thine eye.
The Boy Out Of Church
© Robert Graves
As Jesus and his followers
Upon a Sabbath morn
Were walking by a wheat field
They plucked the ears of corn.
Mourning Women
© Mathilde Blind
Most wretched women! whom your prophet dooms
To take love's penalties without its prize!
Yes; you shall bear the unborn in your wombs,
And water dusty death with streaming eyes,
And, wailing, beat your breasts among the tombs;
But souls ye have none fit for Paradise.
Wisdom
© Ernest Christopher Dowson
Love wine and beauty and the spring,
While wine is red and spring is here,
And through the almond blossoms ring
The dove-like voices of thy Dear.
The Lover Of The Queen Of Sheba
© Arthur Symons
To SAROJINI NAIDU
A YOUTH OF SHEBA. THE QUEEN OF SHEBA.
THE HERALD. KING SOLOMON.
Rose and Murray
© Conrad Aiken
After the movie, when the lights come up,
He takes her powdered hand behind the wings;
Sixteenth Sunday After Trinity
© John Keble
Wish not, dear friends, my pain away -
Wish me a wise and thankful heart,
With GOD, in all my griefs, to stay,
Nor from His loved correction start.
Sonnet XXIII. By The Same. To The North Star.
© Charlotte Turner Smith
TO thy bright beams I turn my swimming eyes,
Fair, favourite planet, which in happier days
Saw my young hopes, ah, faithless hopes!--arise,
And on my passion shed propitious rays.
Spring Storm
© Fyodor Ivanovich Tyutchev
I love a storm in early May
When springtime's boisterous, firstborn thunder
Over the sky will gaily wander
And growl and roar as though in play.
The Martyrs
© Archibald Lampman
Yet still across life's tangled storms we see,
Following the cross, your pale procession led,
One hope, one end, all others sacrificed,
Self-abnegation, love, humility,
Your faces shining toward the bended head,
The wounded hands and patient feet of Christ.