Love poems
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2 Flies
© Charles Bukowski
The flies are angry bits of life;
why are they so angry?
it seems they want more,
it seems almost as if they
Nora: A Serenade
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
AH, Nora, my Nora, the light fades away,
While Night like a spirit steals up o'er the hills;
Faithful In Vanity-Fair
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
THE great human whirlpool--'t is seething and seething:
On! No time for shrieking out--scarcely for breathing:
All toiling and moiling, some feebler, some bolder,
But each sees a fiend-face grim over his shoulder:
Thus merrily live they in Vanity-fair.
Ferdinando and Elvira
© William Schwenck Gilbert
Then we let off paper crackers, each of which contained a motto,
And she listened while I read them, till her mother told her not
to.
The Boy And The Brook. (Armenian Popular Song, From The Prose Version Of Alishan)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Down from yon distant mountain height
The brooklet flows through the village street;
A boy comes forth to wash his hands,
Washing, yes washing, there he stands,
In the water cool and sweet.
Peruvian Tales: Cora, Tale VI
© Helen Maria Williams
The troops of ALMAGRO and ALPHONSO meet on the plain of CUZCO -. MANCO -CAPAC attacks them by nights-His army is defeated, and he is forced to fly with its scattered remains-CORA goes in search of him- Her infant in her arms-Overcome with fatigue, she rests at the foot of a mountain-An earthquake-A band of Indians fly to the mountain for shelter-CORA discovers her husband-Their interview-Her death -He escapes with his infant-ALMAGRO claims a share of the spoils of Cuzco-His contention with PIZARRO -The Spaniards destroy each other-ALMAGRO is taken prisoner, and put to death-His soldiers, in revenge, assassinate PIZARRO in his palace-LAS CASAS dies-The annual festival of the PERUVIANS -Their victories over the Spaniards in Chili-A wish for the restoration of their liberty-Conclusion.
Spectral Lovers
© John Crowe Ransom
By night they haunted a thicket of April mist,
Out of that black ground suddenly come to birth,
Else angels lost in each other and fallen on earth.
Lovers they knew they were, but why unclasped, unkissed?
Why should two lovers be frozen apart in fear?
And yet they were, they were.
Along The Paths O' Glory
© Edgar Albert Guest
Along the paths o' glory there are faces new to-day,
There are youthful hearts and sturdy that have found the westward way.
From the rugged roads o' duty they have turned without a sigh,
To mingle with their brothers who were not afraid to die.
And they're looking back and smiling at the loved ones left behind,
With the Old Flag flying o'er them, and they're calling "Never mind.
The Last Tournament
© Alfred Tennyson
To whom the King, `Peace to thine eagle-borne
Dead nestling, and this honour after death,
Following thy will! but, O my Queen, I muse
Why ye not wear on arm, or neck, or zone
Those diamonds that I rescued from the tarn,
And Lancelot won, methought, for thee to wear.'
Sonnet LXXXII. To The Shade Of Burns
© Charlotte Turner Smith
MUTE is thy wild harp, now, O bard sublime!
Who, amid Scotia's mountain solitude,
Great Nature taught to "build the lofty rhyme,"
And even beneath the daily pressure, rude,
A Wreath Of Sonnets (2/14)
© France Preseren
A record of my pain and of your praise
Will this be to Slovenes as yet unborn,
When moss shall grow upon my tomb forlorn,
And over all that grieves me and dismays;
Truth And Falsehood. A Tale
© Matthew Prior
Poor Truth she stripp'd, as has been said,
And naked left the lovely maid,
Who, scorning from her cause to wince,
Has gone stark naked ever since,
And ever naked will appear,
Beloved by all who Truth revere.
Conquest
© Philippe Desportes
Those eyes that set my fancy on a fire,
Those crispéd hairs that hold my heart in chains,
A Hymn To Venus
© Sappho
O Venus, beauty of the skies,
To whom a thousand temples rise,
Gaily false in gentle smiles,
Full of love-perplexing wiles;
O goddess, from my heart remove
The wasting cares and pains of love.
November In Ireland
© Alice Guerin Crist
November days in Ireland
The skies are dull and grey,
But Oh! The clear strong flame of love,
That burns by night and day.
As swift and bright the whispered prayers fly to the Heavens O'erhead,
From faithful hearts in Ireland, remembering their dead.
A Song. In Vain You Tell Your Parting Lover
© Matthew Prior
In vain you tell your parting lover
You wish fair winds may waft him over
Marmion: Introduction to Canto VI.
© Sir Walter Scott
Heap on more wood! the wind is chill;
But let it whistle as it will,
London - in Imitation of the Third Satire of Juvenal
© Samuel Johnson
'--Quis ineptae
Tam patiens urbis, tam ferreus ut teneat se?' ~ Juv.
Young Benjie
© Andrew Lang
Of all the maids of fair Scotland,
The fairest was Marjorie;
And young Benjie was her ae true love,
And a dear true love was he.
Witnesses
© Madison Julius Cawein
You say I do not love you!--Tell me why,
When I have gazed a little on your face,
And then gone forth into the world of men,
A beauty, neither of the Earth or Sky,
A glamour, that transforms each common place,
Attends my spirit then?
