Love poems
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As In The Midst Of Battle There Is Room
© George Santayana
As in the midst of battle there is room
For thoughts of love, and in foul sin for mirth;
As gossips whisper of a trinket's worth
Spied by the death-bed's flickering candle-gloom;
The Marriage Of Geraint
© Alfred Tennyson
'Turn, Fortune, turn thy wheel and lower the proud;
Turn thy wild wheel through sunshine, storm, and cloud;
Thy wheel and thee we neither love nor hate.
November, 1851
© George MacDonald
Why wilt thou stop and start?
Draw nearer, oh my heart,
And I will question thee most wistfully;
Gather thy last clear resolution
To look upon thy dissolution.
A Tumbler Of Claret
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
I poured out a tumbler of Claret,
Of course with intention to drink,
Days End
© Robert Laurence Binyon
When I am weary, thronged with the cares of the vain day
That tease as harsh winds tease the unresting autumn boughs,
I still my mind at evening and put all else away
But the image of my Love, where all my hopes I house.
Snow Song
© Sara Teasdale
Fairy snow, fairy snow,
Blowing, blowing everywhere,
Would that I
Too, could fly
Lightly, lightly through the air.
From Pocahontas
© William Makepeace Thackeray
Returning from the cruel fight
How pale and faint appears my knight!
He sees me anxious at his side;
"Why seek, my love, your wounds to hide?
Or deem your English girl afraid
To emulate the Indian maid?"
The Blind
© Sara Teasdale
The birds are all a-building,
They say the world's a-flower,
And still I linger lonely
Within a barren bower.
Affinities
© Mathilde Blind
TAKE me to thy heart, and let me
Rest my head a little while;
Rest my heart from griefs that fret me
In the mercy of thy smile.
The Charter;
© Helen Maria Williams
ADDRESSED
TO MY NEPHEW
ATHANASE C. L. COQUEREL,
ON HIS WEDDING DAY, 1819.
The Microbe's Serenade
© George Ade
"O lovely metamorphic germ,
What futile scientific term
Can well describe your many charms?
Come to these embryonic arms,
Then hie away to my cellular home,
And be my little diatom!"
'Tis Said, That Some Have Died For Love
© William Wordsworth
'Tis said, that some have died for love:
And here and there a churchyard grave is found
The Fun Of Forgiving
© Edgar Albert Guest
Sometimes I'm almost glad to hear when I get home that they've been bad;
And though I try to look severe, within my heart I'm really glad
When mother sadly tells to me the list of awful things they've done,
Because when they come tearfully, forgiving them is so much fun.
Hymn 139
© Isaac Watts
How oft have sin and Satan strove
To rend my soul from thee, my God!
But everlasting is thy love,
And Jesus seals it with his blood.
To A Youth Who Wooed A Woman Older Than Himself
© Sappho
Friend, woo me not so earnestly.
Vain is thy prayer.
