Love poems
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Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: XLIX
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
I will not tell the secrets of that place.
When Madame Blanche returned to us again
I was kneeling there, while Esther kissed my face
And dried and comforted my tears. O vain
the message of crazy horse
© Paul Celan
i would sit in the center of the world,
the Black Hills hooped around me and
dream of my dancing horse. my wife
The Song of Songs
© King Solomon
The Song of songs, which is Solomon's.
Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth:
for thy love is better than wine.
Because of the savor of thy good ointments
thy name is as ointment poured forth,
therefore do the virgins love thee.
Marriage
© Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
No more alone sleeping, no more alone waking,
Thy dreams divided, thy prayers in twain;
Thy merry sisters tonight forsaking,
Never shall we see, maiden, again.
Living: After A Death
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
Only to me, my love, only to me.
This cavern underneath the moaning sea;
This long, long life that I alone must tread,
To whom the living seem most like the dead,--
Thou wilt be safe out on the happy shore:
He who in God lives, liveth evermore.
September, 1819
© André Breton
Departing summer hath assumed
An aspect tenderly illumed,
The gentlest look of spring;
That calls from yonder leafy shade
Unfaded, yet prepared to fade,
A timely carolling.
To My Old Oak Table
© Robert Bloomfield
Friend of my peaceful days! substantial friend,
Whom wealth can never change, nor int'rest bend,
Amoretti LXXXI: Fayre is my love, when her fayre golden heares
© Edmund Spenser
Fayre is my love, when her fayre golden heares,
With the loose wynd ye waving chance to marke:
Bologna: A Poem About Gold
© James Wright
She looks like only the heavy deep gold
That drags thrones down
All day long on the vine.
Mary in Bologna, sunlight I gathered all morning
And pressed in my hands all afternoon
And drank all day with my golden-breasted
Lines——
© Victor Segalen
I have been cherish’d and forgiven
By many tender-hearted,
’Twas for the sake of one in Heaven
Of him that is departed.
from War is Kind ["Do not weep, maiden, for war is kind"]
© Stephen Crane
Do not weep, maiden, for war is kind.
Because your lover threw wild hands toward the sky
And the affrighted steed ran on alone,
Do not weep.
War is kind.
Something Childish, but Very Natural
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Written in Germany
If I had but two little wings
And were a little feathery bird,
To you I'd fly, my dear!
But thoughts like these are idle things,
And I stay here.
Miranda’s Drowned Book
© Debora Greger
Perhaps not world enough, but I had time
to watch a hermit crab align himself
and back into a vacant whelk and haul
the home he wore from rocky A to B.
All that watching—watching for what? A sail
blown off its course by my uncalled-for sighs?
Greitna, Father
© George MacDonald
Greitna, father, that I'm gauin,
For fu' well ye ken the gaet;
I' the winter, corn ye're sawin,
I' the hairst again ye hae't.
Little Nell
© Louisa May Alcott
GLEAMING through the silent church-yard,
Winter sunlight seemed to shed
Ave Atque Vale
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
In Memory of Charles Baudelaire
Nous devrions pourtant lui porter quelques fleurs;
Les morts, les pauvres morts, ont de grandes douleurs,
Et quand Octobre souffle, émondeur des vieux arbres,
Memory
© Walter Savage Landor
THE MOTHER of the Muses, we are taught,
Is Memory: she has left me; they remain,
And shake my shoulder, urging me to sing
Love
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
We cannot live, except thus mutually
We alternate, aware or unaware,
