Love poems
/ page 568 of 1285 /
A Thought of Henry Kendall
© Anonymous
Had I gone first he surely would have writ
Some kindly words in loving memory --
The Old Maid's Story
© Ada Cambridge
Ay, many and many a year's gone by,
Since the dawn of that day in spring,
Le Balcon (The Balcony)
© Charles Baudelaire
Mère des souvenirs, maîtresse des maîtresses,
Ô toi, tous mes plaisirs! ô toi, tous mes devoirs!
Tu te rappelleras la beauté des caresses,
La douceur du foyer et le charme des soirs,
Mère des souvenirs, maîtresse des maîtresses!
Art
© Herman Melville
In placid hours well-pleased we dream
Of many a brave unbodied scheme.
But form to lend, pulsed life create,
What unlike things must meet and mate:
Falstaff's Lament Over Prince Hal Become Henry V
© Herman Melville
One that I cherished,
Yea, loved as a son -
Up early, up late with,
My promising one:
No use in good nurture,
None, lads, none!
The Forester
© Robert Bloomfield
Born in a dark wood's lonely dell,
Where echoes roar'd, and tendrils curl'd
To Hafiz
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
THOUGH gifts like thine the fates gave not to me,
One thing, O Hafiz, we both hold in fee
The Troubadour. Canto 2
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
THE first, the very first; oh! none
Can feel again as they have done;
In love, in war, in pride, in all
The planets of life's coronal,
However beautiful or bright,--
What can be like their first sweet light?
On
© Bob Kaufman
On yardbird corners of embryonic hopes, drowned in a heroin tear.
On yardbird corners of parkerflights to sound filled pockets in space.
On neuro-corners of striped brains & desperate electro-surgeons.
On alcohol corners of pointless discussion & historical hangovers.
Reflections IV.
© Samuel Rogers
This Child, so lovely and so cherub-like,
(No fairer spirit in the heaven of heavens)
Say, must he know remorse? must Passion come,
Passion in all or any of its shapes,
Three Seasons
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
'A cup for hope!' she said,
In springtime ere the bloom was old:
The crimson wine was poor and cold
By her mouth's richer red.
Iris, Her Book
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
I PRAY thee by the soul of her that bore thee,
By thine own sister's spirit I implore thee,
Deal gently with the leaves that lie before thee!
Parable Of The Four-Poster
© Erica Jong
Because she wants to touch him,
she moves away.
Because she wants to talk to him,
she keeps silent.
Ordinary Miracles
© Erica Jong
Spring, rainbows,
ordinary miracles
about which
nothing new can be said.
