Love poems
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"I cant prevent myself from singing"
© Thibaut de Champagne
Mercy, my lady, who knows all things!
All goodness and everything worth having
Are yours: more than any woman living.
Help me, now, it is in your giving!
You Have Let The Beauty Of The Day Go Over
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
You have let the beauty of the day go over,
You have let the glory of the noon go by.
Clouds from the West have gathered close and cover
All but a remnant now of our proud sky.
Water-Weeds
© Arthur Symons
What is this that flies with night
On the wings of the night-birds?
Ghost of love, endless delight,
Night's inarticulate words
Come, where water-weeds are cool,
Dip your fingers in the pool,
The Message Of The Wind
© Harriet Monroe
The wind comes riding down from heaven.
Ho! wind of heaven, what do you bring?
Thunder On The Downs
© Robert Laurence Binyon
And if a lightning now were loosed in flame
Out of the darkness of the cloud to claim
Thy heart, O England, how wouldst thou be known
In that hour? How to the quick core be shown
And seen? What cry should from thy very soul
Answer the judgment of that thunder--roll?
Heat
© Madison Julius Cawein
Within its channel glares the creek and shrinks,
Beneath whose rocks the furtive crawfish hides
In stagnant places, where the green frog blinks,
And water-spider glides.
On Content
© Thomas Parnell
Grant heav'n that I may chuse my bliss
If you design me worldly Happiness
Ghosts
© Madison Julius Cawein
Was it the strain of the waltz that, repeating
"Love," so bewitched me? or only the gleam
There of the lustres, that set my heart beating,
Feeling your presence as one feels a dream?
Thirty-Eight
© Charlotte Turner Smith
ADDRESSED TO MRS. H------Y.
IN early youth's unclouded scene,
The brilliant morning of eighteen,
With health and sprightly joy elate
Written After Leaving West Point
© Frances Anne Kemble
The hours are past, love,
Oh, fled they not too fast, love!
Those happy hours, when down the mountain-side,
We saw the rosy mists of morning glide,
Time, Hope And Memory
© Thomas Hood
I heard a gentle maiden, in the spring,
Set her sweet sighs to music, and thus sing:
"Fly through the world, and I will follow thee,
Only for looks that may turn back on me;
The Old Love
© Augusta Davies Webster
I
You love me, only me. Do I not know?
If I were gone your life would be no more
Than his who, hungering on a rocky shore,
Endymion: A Mystical Comment On Titian's 'Sacred And Profane Love'
© James Russell Lowell
Long she abode aloof there in her heaven,
Far as the grape-bunch of the Pleiad seven
Beyond my madness' utmost leap; but here
Mine eyes have feigned of late her rapture near,
Moulded of mind-mist that broad day dispels,
Here in these shadowy woods and brook-lulled dells.
The Husband
© Leon Gellert
Yes, I have slain, and taken moving life
From bodies. Yea! And laughed upon the taking;
Motherhood
© Eleanor Agnes Lee
Mary,the Christ long slain,passed silently,
Following the children joyous astir
Under the cedrus and the olive tree,
Pausing to let their laughter float to her--
Each voice an echo of a voice more dear,
She saw a little Christ in every face.
On Mr. G. Herbert's Book, Entitled The Temple : Sacred Poems
© Richard Crashaw
Know you, fair, on what you look ?
Divinest love lies in this book,
A Death-Parting
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
LEAVES and rain and the days of the year,
(Water-willow and wellaway,)
Song XI. - Perhaps it is not love
© William Shenstone
Perhaps it is not love, said I,
That melts my soul when Flavia's nigh;
Where wit and sense like hers agree,
One may be pleased, and yet be free.
