Love poems
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Address For The Opening Of The Fifth Avenue Theatre
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
HANG out our banners on the stately tower
It dawns at last--the long-expected hour!
The steep is climbed, the star-lit summit won,
The builder's task, the artist's labor done;
Before the finished work the herald stands,
And asks the verdict of your lips and hands!
"The Old Psalm Tune"
© Harriet Beecher Stowe
You asked, dear friend, the other day,
Why still my charmed ear
Rejoiceth in uncultured tone
That old psalm tune to hear?
On the Poet’s Birth
© Robert Graves
A page, a huntsman and a priest of God
Her lovers, met in jealous contrariety
Equally claiming the sole parenthood
Of him the perfect crown of their variety.
Then, whom to admit, herself she could not tell:
That always was her fate, she loved too well.
Three Years She Grew
© André Breton
Three years she grew in sun and shower,
Then Nature said, "A lovelier flower
On earth was never sown;
This Child I to myself will take;
She shall be mine, and I will make
A Lady of my own.
The Magic of Numbers
© Kenneth Koch
The Magic of Numbers—1
How strange it was to hear the furniture being moved around in the apartment upstairs!
Contrasted Songs: Song For The Night Of Christ's Resurrection
© Jean Ingelow
(A Humble Imitation)
And birds of calm sit brooding on the charmed wave.
Ovid in the Third Reich
© Geoffrey Hill
I love my work and my children. God
Is distant, difficult. Things happen.
Too near the ancient troughs of blood
Innocence is no earthly weapon.
Pajama Quotient
© Michael Rosen
Coinage of the not-yet-wholly-
hardened custodians of public
health, as health is roughly measured
?in the rougher parts of Dearborn.
Four Poems for Robin
© Gary Snyder
December at Yase
You said, that October,
In the tall dry grass by the orchard
When you chose to be free,
“Again someday, maybe ten years.”
Moving Bells
© Henry Van Dyke
Dear is the magic of this hour: she seems
To walk before the dark by falling rills,
And lend a sweeter song to hidden streams;
She opens all the doors of night, and fills
With moving bells the music of my dreams,
That wander far among the sleeping hills.
Dogs Are Shakespearean, Children Are Strangers
© Delmore Schwartz
Dogs are Shakespearean, children are strangers.
Let Freud and Wordsworth discuss the child,
A Summons
© Frances Anne Kemble
O thou beloved, by whom I stand,
Straining in mine thy kindred hand,
Farewell!on yonder mountain's brow
I see a beckoning hand of snow;
Stern winter dares no nearer come,
But waves me towards his northern home.
Psalm 119 part 15
© Isaac Watts
O that thy statutes every hour
Might dwell upon my mind!
Thence I derive a quick'ning power,
And daily peace I find.
Jessie Mitchell’s Mother
© Gwendolyn Brooks
Into her mother’s bedroom to wash the ballooning body.
“My mother is jelly-hearted and she has a brain of jelly:
The New Year
© Emma Lazarus
Look where the mother of the months uplifts
In the green clearness of the unsunned West,
Her ivory horn of plenty, dropping gifts,
Cool, harvest-feeding dews, fine-winnowed light;
Tired labor with fruition, joy and rest
Profusely to requite.
