Love poems
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The Tears Of A Painter
© William Cowper
Apelles, hearing that his boy
Had just expired--his only joy!
The White Doe Of Rylstone, Or, The Fate Of The Nortons - Canto Third
© William Wordsworth
NOW joy for you who from the towers
Of Brancepeth look in doubt and fear,
Telling melancholy hours!
Proclaim it, let your Masters hear
Street Light
© John Crowe Ransom
THE shine of many city streets
Confuses any countryman;
It flickers here and flashes there,
It goes as soon as it began,
It beckons many ways at once
For him to follow if he can.
Saint Monica
© Charlotte Turner Smith
AMONG deep woods is the dismantled scite
Of an old Abbey, where the chaunted rite,
The Change
© John Newton
Saviour shine and cheer my soul,
Bid my dying hopes revive;
Make my wounded spirit whole,
Far away the tempter drive:
Speak the word and set me free,
Let me live alone to thee.
Two Duets
© Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
She. Yet Aglaia, yet Aglaia
Hath heard them debate
Of wooing repenting-
"Who trust to undoing,
Lament them too late."
To The Same (Charles Walker)
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
PUT no faith in aught you meet with, friends or lovers,
new or old,
The Young Volunteer
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
With a knock upon the window comes the young volunteer,
'Tis his step upon the threshold; "what is it brings you here?"
Dance Of The Hanged Men
© Arthur Rimbaud
On the black gallows, one-armed friend,
The paladins are dancing, dancing
The lean, the devil's paladins
The skeletons of Saladins.
An Old Song
© Dorothea Mackellar
The almond bloom is overpast, the apple blossoms blow.
I never loved but one man, and I never told him so.
To Sylvia
© Giacomo Leopardi
O Sylvia, dost thou remember still
That period of thy mortal life,
When beauty so bewildering
Shone in thy laughing, glancing eyes,
As thou, so merry, yet so wise,
Youth's threshold then wast entering?
Song II
© Sara Teasdale
Like some rare queen of old romance
Who loved the gleam of helm and lance
Is she.
A harper of King Arthur's days
Lines on A Fly-Leaf
© John Greenleaf Whittier
I need not ask thee, for my sake,
To read a book which well may make
The Neckar
© Friedrich Hölderlin
My heart awakened to life in your valleys,
Your waves played around me.
And all of the fair hills that know you,
Wayfarer, are known to me as well.
The Winter's Walk
© Samuel Johnson
Behold, my fair, where'er we rove,
What dreary prospects round us rise,
The naked hill, the leafless grove,
The hoary ground, the frowning skies.
