Love poems

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Kiss before we sleepA thousand times again,And love close-guarded keep:Though this night we wakeWith the grey sun's light,Returning dawns will breakWhile we in our long night,Past pleasure or pain,Nor turn nor kiss again

Song from Abdelazar

© Aphra Behn

Love in fantastic triumph sat, Whilst bleeding hearts around him flow'd,For whom fresh pains he did create, And strange tyrannic power he shew'd;From thy bright eyes he took his fire, Which round about in sport he hurl'd;But 'twas from mine he took desire Enough to undo the amorous world

Lay a garland on my hearse

© John Fletcher

Lay a garland on my hearse, Of the dismal yew,Maidens, willow branches bear, Say I died true.My love was false, but I was firm From my hour of birth;Upon my buried body lie Lightly, gentle earth.

The Minstrel; or, The Progress of Genius

© James Beattie

THE FIRST BOOK (excerpts) The steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar! Ah! who can tell how many a soul sublime Hath felt the influence of malignant star, And wag'd with Fortune an eternal war! Check'd by the scoff of Pride, by Envy's frown, And Poverty's unconquerable bar, In life's low vale remote hath pin'd aloneThen dropt into the grave, unpitied and unknown!

And yet, the languor of inglorious days Not equally oppressive is to all

To his Friend Master R. L., In Praise of Music and Poetry

© Richard Barnfield

If music and sweet poetry agree,As they must needs (the sister and the brother),Then must the love be great 'twixt thee and me, Because thou lov'st the one, and I the other

To Mrs. P********, with some Drawings of Birds and Insects

© Anna Lætitia Barbauld

The kindred arts to please thee shall conspire,One dip the pencil, and one string the lyre. (Pope)

To Mr. Barbauld, November 14, 1778

© Anna Lætitia Barbauld

Come, clear thy studious looks awhile, 'T is arrant treason now To wear that moping brow, When I, thy empress, bid thee smile.

To a Little Invisible Being Who is Expected Soon to Become Visible

© Anna Lætitia Barbauld

Germ of new life, whose powers expanding slowFor many a moon their full perfection wait,--Haste, precious pledge of happy love, to goAuspicious borne through life's mysterious gate.

The Rights of Women

© Anna Lætitia Barbauld

Yes, injured Woman! rise, assert thy right!Woman! too long degraded, scorned, opprest;O born to rule in partial Law's despite,Resume thy native empire o'er the breast!

Dirge: Written November 1808

© Anna Lætitia Barbauld

Pure spirit! O where art thou now! O whisper to my soul!O let some soothing thought of thee, The bitter grief control!

The Mishap

© Aytoun William Edmonstoune

"Why art thou weeping, sister? Why is thy cheek so pale?Look up, dear Jane, and tell me What is it thou dost ail?

The Faking Boy to the Crap is Gone

© Aytoun William Edmonstoune

The faking boy to the crap is gone,At the nubbing-cheat you'll find him;The hempen cord they have girded on,And his elbows pinned behind him

Postcard

© Margaret Atwood

I'm thinking about you

Western Wind, When will thou Blow?

© Anonymous

Western wind, when will thou blow?The small rain down can rain.Christ, if my love were in my arms,And I in my bed again!

Waly, Waly

© Anonymous

O Waly, waly, up the bank, O wary, waly, doun the brae,And waly, waly, yon burn-side, Where I and my love wer wont to gae!I lean'd my back unto an aik, I thocht it was a trustie tree,But first it bow'd and syne it brak',-- Sae my true love did lichtlie me

The Twa Sisters o' Binnorie

© Anonymous

There were twa sisters sat in a bow'r; (Binnorie, O Binnorie!)A knight cam' there, a noble wooer, By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie.

Tom Tyler and his Wife

© Anonymous

I am a poor tiler in simple array,And get a poor living, but eightpence a day,My wife as I get it, doth spend it away; And I cannot help it, she saith; wot we why? For wedding and hanging is destiny.

The Time When I First Fell in Love

© Anonymous

The time when first I fell in love, Which now I must lament;The year wherein I lost such time To compass my content.

There is a Tavern in the Town

© Anonymous

There is a tavern in the town, in the town,And there my true love sits him down, sits him down,And drinks his wine 'mid laughter free,And never, never thinks of me.