Love poems

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The slender young woman who is there would be the premier creation by the
Creator in the sphere of women, with fine teeth, lips like a ripe bimba fruit, a
slim waist, eyes like a startled gazelles, a deep navel, a gait slow on account
of the weight of her hips, and who is somewhat bowed down by her breasts.

Coplas De Manrique (From The Spanish)

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

O let the soul her slumbers break,
Let thought be quickened, and awake;
Awake to see
How soon this life is past and gone,
And death comes softly stealing on,
How silently!

In An English Garden

© Paul Laurence Dunbar

Beside the wall, the slim Laburnum grows
And flings its golden flow'rs to every breeze.
But e'en among such soothing sights as these,
I pant and nurse my soul-devouring woes.
Of all the longings that our hearts wot of,
There is no hunger like the want of love!

Senlin:A Biography: Pt 03 His Cloudy Destiny

© Conrad Aiken

Yet, we would say, this is no shore at all,
But a small bright room with lamplight on the wall;
And the familiar chair
Where Senlin sat, with lamplight on his hair.

Mater Amabilis

© Emma Lazarus

Down the goldenest of streams,
Tide of dreams,
The fair cradled man-child drifts;
Sways with cadenced motion slow,
To and fro,
As the mother-foot poised lightly, falls and lifts.

A Prayer

© Robert Laurence Binyon

O Thou who seekest me
Through the day's heartless hurry and uproar,
Who followest me to my thought's farthest shore--
Nay, who art gone before--

Angel Faces

© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

I.
I SHALL not paint them. God them sees, and I:
No other can, nor need. They have no form,
I may not close with human kisses warm

The Shadow Of The Cross

© John McCrae

From the attic poor to the palace grand,
The King and the beggar went hand in hand.

Prelude

© Conrad Aiken

As evening falls,

And the yellow lights leap one by one

Bulb Planting Time

© Edgar Albert Guest

Last night he said the dead were dead

And scoffed my faith to scorn;

To a Lady who sent me a copy of verses at my going to bed

© Henry King

Lady your art or wit could nere devise
To shame me more then in this nights surprise.
Why I am quite unready, and my eye
Now winking like my candle, doth deny

Rural Sports: A Georgic - Canto II.

© John Gay

Now, sporting muse, draw in the flowing reins,

Leave the clear streams a while for sunny plains.

Assurance

© George Herbert

O Spitefull bitter thought!
Bitterly spitefull thought! Couldst thou invent
So high a torture? Is such poyson boguht?
Doubtlesse, but in the way of punishment,
When wit contrives to meet with thee,
No such rank poyson can there be.

Woman's Love

© Alaric Alexander Watts

'Tis morn: o'er Kyburg's castled crag day's first faint streak appears,

Like the ray of Truth through Error's mists, or the smile through Woman's tears;

The Dirge

Hast thou gone and left me,
Void of faults but strictly true?
Fly far away
Without delay,
Adieu, my love, adieu.

Time And Love

Time flies. The swift hours hurry by

And speed us on to untried ways;

The Land Of Pallas

Methought I journeyed along ways that led for ever
Throughout a happy land where strife and care were dead,
And life went by me flowing like a placid river
Past sandy eyots where the shifting shoals make head.

The Secret Of The Stars

Is man's the only throbbing heart that hides
The silent spring that feeds its whispering tides?
Speak from thy caverns, mystery-breeding Earth,
Tell the half-hinted story of thy birth,
And calm the noisy champions who have thrown
The book of types against the book of stone!