Love poems
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By The Sea
© Sara Teasdale
Beside an ebbing northern sea
While stars awaken one by one,
We walk together, I and he.
The Ship-Builders
© John Greenleaf Whittier
THE sky is ruddy in the east,
The earth is gray below,
And, spectral in the river-mist,
The ship's white timbers show.
Dark spring
© Yvor Winters
My very breath
Disowned
In nights of study,
And page by page
I came on spring.
Piccadilly
© Ezra Pound
Beautiful, tragical faces
Ye that were whole, and are so sunken;
And, O ye vile, ye that might have been loved,
That are so sodden and drunken,
Who hath forgotten you?
Practising The Anthem
© Ada Cambridge
A summer wind blows through the open porch,
And, 'neath the rustling eaves,
A summer light of moonrise, calm and pale,
Shines through a vale of leaves.
How Is It That I Am Now So Softly Awakened
© Conrad Aiken
How is it that I am now so softly awakened,
My leaves shaken down with music?
Canto 1: Narad
© Valmiki
To sainted Nárad, prince of those
Whose lore in words of wisdom flows.
Whose constant care and chief delight
Were Scripture and ascetic rite,
Sonnet XVII. From The Thirteenth Cantata Of Metastasio
© Charlotte Turner Smith
ON thy grey bark, in witness of my flame,
I carve Miranda's cypher--Beauteous tree!
Graced with the lovely letters of her name,
Henceforth be sacred to my love and me!
Macaulay's New Zealander.
© James Brunton Stephens
IT little profits that, an idle man,
On this worn arch, in sight of wasted halls,
Bedouin
© James Whitcomb Riley
O love is like an untamed steed!--
So hot of heart and wild of speed,
Pennsylvania Hall
© John Greenleaf Whittier
NOT with the splendors of the days of old,
The spoil of nations, and barbaric gold;
No weapons wrested from the fields of blood,
Where dark and stern the unyielding Roman stood,
The Thrush In February
© George Meredith
I know him, February's thrush,
And loud at eve he valentines
On sprays that paw the naked bush
Where soon will sprout the thorns and bines.
Sonnet XCIV: Michelangelo 's Kiss
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Great Michelangelo, with age grown bleak
And uttermost labours, having once o'ersaid
Those Shadon Bells
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
Those Shandon bells, those Shandon bells!
Whose deep, sad tone now sobs, now swells-
Who comes to seek this hallowed ground,
And sleep within their sacred sound?
On The Other Side
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
You were shy of strangersand who will come
As you stand there lone and new,
Through the long years when my lips are dumb
What will my darling do?
