Love poems
/ page 64 of 1285 /When the Star Goes Forth in Heaven
© James Joyce
When the shy star goes forth in heaven
All maidenly, disconsolate,
Hear you amid the drowsy even
One who is singing by your gate.
His song is softer than the dew
And he is come to visit you.
Lewti, Or The Circassian Love-Chaunt
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
At midnight by the stream I roved,
To forget the form I loved.
Image of Lewti! from my mind
Depart; for Lewti is not kind.
Rhymed Plea For Tolerance - Dialogue II.
© John Kenyon
A.
By no faint shame withheld from general gaze,
'Tis thus, my friend, we bask us in the blaze;
Where deeds, more surface-smooth than inly bright,
Snatch up a transient lustre from the light.
Cadland, Southampton River
© William Lisle Bowles
If ever sea-maid, from her coral cave,
Beneath the hum of the great surge, has loved
Constantia's Song
© Abraham Cowley
Time fly with greater speed away,
Add feathers to thy wings,
Till thy haste in flying brings
That wished-for and expected Day.
Forby Sutherland
© George Gordon McCrae
A LANE of elms in June;the air
Of eve is cool and calm and sweet.
Dead!
© Alfred Austin
Hush! or you'll wake her. Softly tread!
She slumbers in her little bed.
What do I see? A coffin! Dead?
Yes, dead at break of morning.
To the West
© William Percy French
The Midland Great Western is doing its best,
And the circular ticket is safe in my vest;
But I know that my holiday never begins
Till I'm in Connemara among the Twelve Pins.
The New Dispensation
© Edith Nesbit
OUT in the sun the buttercups are gold,
The daisies silver all the grassy lane,
And spring has given love a flower to hold,
And love lays blindness on the eyes of pain.
The Shadows
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
"How many have gone?" was the question of old
Ere Time our bright ring of its jewels bereft;
Alas! for too often the death-bell has tolled,
And the question we ask is, "How many are left?"
Our Country
© John Greenleaf Whittier
WE give thy natal day to hope,
O Country of our love and prayer!
Thy way is down no fatal slope,
But up to freer sun and air.
The Bishop of Rum-Ti-Foo
© William Schwenck Gilbert
From east and south the holy clan
Of Bishops gathered to a man;
The Living Beauties
© Edgar Albert Guest
I never knew, until they went,
How much their laughter really meant
I never knew how much the place
Depended on each little face;
How barren home could be and drear
Without its living beauties here.
Train Journey
© Judith Wright
Glassed with cold sleep and dazzled by the moon,
out of the confused hammering dark of the train
To-- One word is too often profaned
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
One word is too often profaned
For me to profane it,
One feeling too falsely disdained
Variations At Home And Abroad
© Kenneth Koch
It takes a lot of a person's life
To be French, or English, or American
Sonnet 6: Some Lovers Speak
© Sir Philip Sidney
Some lovers speak when they their Muses entertain,
Of hopes begot by fear, of wot not what desires:
Of force of heav'nly beams, infusing hellish pain:
Of living deaths, dear wounds, fair storms, and freezing fires.
The Country Retreat
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
OH lone and lovely solitude,
Washed by the sounding sea;
Nature was in a poet's mood,
When she created thee.