Love poems

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My Lady Nature and her Daughters

© John Henry Newman

Bird and beast of every sort
Hath its antic and its sport;
Chattering brook, and dancing gnat,
Subtle cry of evening bat,
Moss uncouth, and twigs grotesque,
These are Nature's picturesque.

Being His Mother

© James Whitcomb Riley

Being his mother--when he goes away

I would not hold him overlong, and so

A Man Doesn't Have Time In His Life

© Yehuda Amichai

A man doesn't have time in his life
to have time for everything.
He doesn't have seasons enough to have
a season for every purpose. Ecclesiastes
Was wrong about that.

"How hard for me, the splendor of this crown and robe"

© Osip Emilevich Mandelstam

-- O, if hate would boil in my breast --
but see, the admission itself
has fallen from my lips.

Nathan The Wise - Act II

© Gotthold Ephraim Lessing

But out of my dilemma
'Tis not so easy to escape unhurt.
Well, you must have the knight.

An Heroic Epistle of Hudibras To His Lady

© Samuel Butler

I who was once as great as Caesar,

Am now reduc'd to Nebuchadnezzar;

Joan Of Arc, In Rheims

© Felicia Dorothea Hemans

Thou hast a charmed cup, O Fame!
A draught that mantles high,
And seems to lift this earth-born frame
Above mortality:
Away! to me a woman bring
Sweet waters from affection's spring.

Male Phoenix Pleads With Female Phoenix

Lady phoenix, lady phoenix: come with me and nest,
be supported, breed with me, forever be my wife,
exchange love in the usual way, our hearts harmonious:
at midnight if you follow me who will know?
Our wings together will rise, fluttering as high we fly.
If your are unmoved by my feelings, I will be miserable.

The Laurustinus

© James Montgomery

Fair tree of winter! fresh and flowering,

When all around is dead and dry;

Dover Cliffs

© William Lisle Bowles

On these white cliffs, that calm above the flood

Uprear their shadowing heads, and at their feet

Sad One, Must You Weep

© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay

"SAD one, must you weep alway?
Youth's ill wedded with despair;
Ringless hand and robe of grey
Mock the charms which they declare."

Siste Viator

© Augusta Davies Webster

WHAT is it that is dead?
Somewhere there is a grave, and something lies
Cold in the ground, and stirs not for my sighs,
Nor songs that I can make, nor smiles from me,
Nor tenderest foolish words that I have said;
Something that was has hushed, and will not be.

Herbal

Love-lies-bleeding now is found
Grown in every common ground.
Love-lies-bleeding thrives apace
With the dear forget-me-not:
Nor is boy's love out of place
Now in any garden plot.

Marriage Song

Fair is my dove, my loved one,
None can with her compare:
Yea, comely as Jerusalem,
Like unto Tirzah fair.

The Friendly Greeting

Oh, we have friends in England, and we have friends in France,
And should we have to travel there through some strange circumstance,
Undaunted we should sail away, and gladly should we go,
Because awaiting us would be somebody that we know.

Idyll XVII. The Praise of Ptolemy

© Theocritus

"Wake, babe, to bliss: prize me, as Phoebus doth
His azure-sphered Delos: grace the hill
Of Triops, and the Dorians' sister shores,
As king Apollo his Rhenaea's isle."