Love poems
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83. The Cotters Saturday Night
© Robert Burns
MY lovd, my honourd, much respected friend!
No mercenary bard his homage pays;
With honest pride, I scorn each selfish end,
My dearest meed, a friends esteem and praise:
489. SongBehold, my love, how green the groves
© Robert Burns
BEHOLD, my love, how green the groves,
The primrose banks how fair;
The balmy gales awake the flowers,
And wave thy flowing hair.
The Old Professor
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
See, there he goes, a-pulling his long beard;
With frowning brow, and far and absent gaze,
322. SongThe Bonie Wee Thing
© Robert Burns
Chorus.Bonie wee thing, cannie wee thing,
Lovely wee thing, wert thou mine,
I wad wear thee in my bosom,
Lest my jewel it should tine.
Said The Thistle-Down
© Isabella Valancy Crawford
"If thou wilt hold my silver hair,
O Lady sweet and bright;
Canada To England
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
O little isle our fathers held for home,
Not, not alone thy standards and thy hosts
Lead where thy sons shall follow, Mother Land:
Quick as the north wind, ardent as the foam,
Behold, behold the invulnerable ghosts
Of all past greatnesses about thee stand.
554. SongA Health to ane I loe dear
© Robert Burns
ChorusHeres a health to ane I loe dear,
Heres a health to ane I loe dear;
Thou art sweet as the smile when fond lovers meet,
And soft as their parting tearJessy.
264. SongOn a Bank of Flowers
© Robert Burns
ON a bank of flowers, in a summer day,
For summer lightly drest,
The youthful, blooming Nelly lay,
With love and sleep opprest;
Butterflies
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
O child of Joy! What idle life is thine!
Thou, in these meadows, while thy skies are blue,
And while thy joys are new to thee like wine,
Chasest mad butterflies as children do.
And lo, thou turnest from them to repine,
Because it was not love thou didst pursue.
334. SongFragmentDamon and Sylvia
© Robert Burns
YON wandering rill that marks the hill,
And glances oer the brae, Sir,
Slides by a bower, where mony a flower
Sheds fragrance on the day, Sir;
330. SongThe Gallant Weaver
© Robert Burns
WHERE Cart rins rowin to the sea,
By mony a flower and spreading tree,
There lives a lad, the lad for me,
He is a gallant Weaver.
Sonnets At Christmas II
© Allen Tate
Ah, Christ, I love you rings to the wild sky
And I must think a little of the past:
291. SongThe Captive Ribband
© Robert Burns
DEAR Myra, the captive ribbands mine,
Twas all my faithful love could gain;
And would you ask me to resign
The sole reward that crowns my pain?
156. Verses inscribed under a Noble Earls Picture
© Robert Burns
WHOSE 1 is that noble, dauntless brow?
And whose that eye of fire?
And whose that generous princely mien,
Een rooted foes admire?
I see thee betterin the Dark
© Emily Dickinson
I see thee betterin the Dark
I do not need a Light
The Love of Theea Prism be
Excelling Violet
Written at the Request of a Gentleman to Whom a Lady Had Given a Sprig of Myrtle
© Samuel Johnson
What hopes - what terrors does this gift create?
Ambiguous emblem of uncertain fate.
450. Monody on a Lady, famed for her Caprice
© Robert Burns
HOW cold is that bosom which folly once fired,
How pale is that cheek where the rouge lately glistend;
How silent that tongue which the echoes oft tired,
How dull is that ear which to flattry so listend!
Cupid In Ambush
© Matthew Prior
It oft to many has successful been
Upon his arm to let his mistress lean,
A Dream Lesson
© Carolyn Wells
Once there was a little boy who wouldn't go to bed,
When they hinted at the subject he would only shake his head,
When they asked him his intentions, he informed them pretty straight
That he wouldn't go to bed at all, and Nursey needn't wait.
The Broken Tower
© Hart Crane
The bell-rope that gathers God at dawn
Dispatches me as though I dropped down the knell
Of a spent day - to wander the cathedral lawn
From pit to crucifix, feet chill on steps from hell.
