Love poems
/ page 539 of 1285 /Bion
© Andrew Lang
And dirge to dirge that answers, and the weeping
For Adonais by the summer sea,
The plaints for Lycidas, and Thyrsis (sleeping
Far from 'the forest ground called Thessaly'),
These hold thy memory, Bion, in their keeping,
And are but echoes of the moan for thee.
The Grate Fire
© Edgar Albert Guest
I'm sorry for a fellow if he cannot look and see
In a grate fire's friendly flaming all the joys which used to be.
Sonnet I The Nightingale
© Cornelius Webb
Not farther than a fledgling's weak first flight,
In a low dell, standeth an antique grove;
Lines Written At Norwich On The First News Of Peace
© Amelia Opie
What means that wild and joyful cry?
Why do yon crowds in mean attire
Throw thus their ragged arms on high?
In want what can such joy inspire?
Somebody Else's Baby by Mary Jo Salter: American Life in Poetry #97 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2
© Ted Kooser
Though parents know that their children will grow up and away from them, will love and be loved by others, it's a difficult thing to accept. Massachusetts poet Mary Jo Salter emphasizes the poignancy of the parent/child relationship in this perceptive and compelling poem.
Somebody Else's Baby
From now on they always are, for years now
they always have been, but from now on you know
they are, they always will be,
The Question
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Now here is where I fail to understand,
And put my question in all reverence,
On bended knee with head most lowly bent,
To the All-High, All-Knowing Providence.
To a Very Young Lady
© Edmund Waller
Why came I so untimely forth
Into a world which, wanting thee,
Could entertain us with no worth
Or shadow of felicity?
That time should me so far remove
From that which I was born to love.
To Mary Who Died In This Opinion
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
Maiden, quench the glare of sorrow
Struggling in thine haggard eye:
Firmness dare to borrow
A Priest
© Norman Rowland Gale
NATURE and he went ever hand in hand
Across the hills and down the lonely lane;
The Rain Comes Sobbing to the Door
© Henry Kendall
The night grows dark, and weird, and cold; and thick drops patter on the pane;
There comes a wailing from the sea; the wind is weary of the rain.
Only a Simple Rhyme
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Only a simple rhyme of love and sorrow,
Where "blisses" rhymed with "kisses," "heart," with "dart:"
Yet, reading it, new strength I seemed to borrow,
To live on bravely and to do my part.
How Long?
© Katharine Lee Bates
How long, O Prince of Peace, how long? We sicken of the shame
Of this wild war that wraps the world, a roaring dragon-flame
Boston To Florence
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
Sent to "The Philological Circle" of Florence for its
meeting in commemoration of Dante, January 27, 1881,
the anniversary of his first condemnation.
If Death Be Good
© Bliss William Carman
(Sappho LXXIV)
If death be good,
Why do the gods not die?
If life be ill,
Grey Eyes.
© Arthur Henry Adams
SHE glanced across the path to me,
Grey eyes!
Her looks were kisses plain to see.
I gave her glances back to her
Decline And Fall
© John Frederick Nims
Cornice rose in ranges, rose so high
It saw no sky, that forum, but noon sky.
Marble shone like shallows; columns too
Streamed with cool light as rocks in breakers do.
Curtius
© Isabella Valancy Crawford
Why, love, how darkly gaze thine eyes in mine!
If loved I dismal thoughts I well could deem
Thou sawest not the blue of my fond eyes,
But looked between the lips of that dread pit,-
O Jove! to name it seems to curse the air
With chills of death! We'll speak not of it, Curtius.
The Lament of Toby, The Learned Pig
© Thomas Hood
Oh, heavy day! oh, day of woe!
To misery a poster,
Why was I ever farrowed, why
Not spitted for a roaster?