Love poems
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Touched by An Angel
© Maya Angelou
We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life.
The Courtship of the Yonghy-Bonghy-Bo
© Edward Lear
I On the Coast of Coromandel
Where the early pumpkins blow,
In the middle of the woods
Lived the Yonghy-Bonghy-B?.
Thou Orb Aloft Full-Dazzling.
© Walt Whitman
THOU orb aloft full-dazzling! thou hot October noon!
Flooding with sheeny light the gray beach sand,
The sibilant near sea with vistas far and foam,
And tawny streaks and shades and spreading blue;
Solid, Ironical, Rolling Orb.
© Walt Whitman
SOLID, ironical, rolling orb!
Master of all, and matter of fact!at last I accept your terms;
Bringing to practical, vulgar tests, of all my ideal dreams,
And of me, as lover and hero.
Not Heat Flames up and Consumes.
© Walt Whitman
NOT heat flames up and consumes,
Not sea-waves hurry in and out,
Not the air, delicious and dry, the air of the ripe summer, bears lightly along white
down-balls of
Behold this Swarthy Face.
© Walt Whitman
BEHOLD this swarthy facethese gray eyes,
This beardthe white wool, unclipt upon my neck,
My brown hands, and the silent manner of me, without charm;
Yet comes one, a Manhattanese, and ever at parting, kisses me lightly on the lips with
Year of Meteors, 1859 60.
© Walt Whitman
YEAR of meteors! brooding year!
I would bind in words retrospective, some of your deeds and signs;
I would sing your contest for the 19th Presidentiad;
I would sing how an old man, tall, with white hair, mounted the scaffold in Virginia;
I Heard You, Solemn-sweet Pipes of the Organ.
© Walt Whitman
I HEARD you, solemn-sweet pipes of the organ, as last Sunday morn I passd the
church;
Winds of autumn!as I walkd the woods at dusk, I heard your long-stretchd
sighs, up above, so mournful;
Thou Reader.
© Walt Whitman
THOU reader throbbest life and pride and love the same as I,
Therefore for thee the following chants.
You Felons on Trial in Courts.
© Walt Whitman
YOU felons on trial in courts;
You convicts in prison-cellsyou sentenced assassins, chaind and
hand-cuffd
with
In Former Songs.
© Walt Whitman
1
IN former songs Pride have I sung, and Love, and passionate, joyful Life,
But here I twine the strands of Patriotism and Death.
Ox Tamer, The.
© Walt Whitman
IN a faraway northern county, in the placid, pastoral region,
Lives my farmer friend, the theme of my recitative, a famous Tamer of Oxen:
There they bring him the three-year-olds and the four-year-olds, to break them;
He will take the wildest steer in the world, and break him and tame him;
Song of the Exposition.
© Walt Whitman
1
AFTER all, not to create only, or found only,
But to bring, perhaps from afar, what is already founded,
To give it our own identity, average, limitless, free;
Sing of the Banner at Day-Break.
© Walt Whitman
POET.
O A NEW song, a free song,
Flapping, flapping, flapping, flapping, by sounds, by voices clearer,
By the winds voice and that of the drum,
Base of all Metaphysics, The.
© Walt Whitman
AND now, gentlemen,
A word I give to remain in your memories and minds,
As base, and finale too, for all metaphysics.
Now List to my Mornings Romanza.
© Walt Whitman
1
NOW list to my mornings romanzaI tell the signs of the Answerer;
To the cities and farms I sing, as they spread in the sunshine before me.
Apostroph.
© Walt Whitman
O MATER! O fils!
O brood continental!
O flowers of the prairies!
O space boundless! O hum of mighty products!
Yet, Yet, Ye Downcast Hours.
© Walt Whitman
1
YET, yet, ye downcast hours, I know ye also;
Weights of lead, how ye clog and cling at my ankles!
Earth to a chamber of mourning turnsI hear the oerweening, mocking voice,
As a Strong Bird on Pinions Free.
© Walt Whitman
1
AS a strong bird on pinions free,
Joyous, the amplest spaces heavenward cleaving,
Such be the thought Id think to-day of thee, America,
Hours Continuing Long.
© Walt Whitman
HOURS continuing long, sore and heavy-hearted,
Hours of the dusk, when I withdraw to a lonesome and unfrequented spot, seating myself,
leaning
my face in my hands;
