Love poems

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Memory

© William Butler Yeats

ONE had a lovely face,
And two or three had charm,
But charm and face were in vain
Because the mountain grass
Cannot but keep the form
Where the mountain hare has lain.

The Cloud Confines

© Dante Gabriel Rossetti

The day is dark and the night

To him that would search their heart;

The Princess: Come down, O Maid

© Alfred Tennyson

Come down, O maid, from yonder mountain height:

The Three Brothers Budrys

© Adam Mickiewicz

Doughty Budrys the old, Lithuanian bold,
He has summoned his lusty sons three.
"Your chargers stand idle, now saddle and bridle
And out with your broadswords," quoth he.

A Holy Week Song, 1918

© Katharine Tynan

Now when Christ died for man his sake

A myriad men must die;

The Departed

© Edgar Albert Guest

IF no one ever went ahead,
If we had seen no friend depart
And mourned him for a while as dead,
How great would be our fear to start.

Persimmons

© Li-Young Lee

In sixth grade Mrs. Walker
slapped the back of my head
and made me stand in the corner
for not knowing the difference
between persimmon and precision.
How to choose

The Lady Of La Garaye - Prologue

This was the Chapel: that the stair:
Here, where all lies damp and bare,
The fragrant thurible was swung,
The silver lamp in beauty hung,
And in that mass of ivied shade
The pale nuns sang--the abbot prayed.

His Farewell to Sack

© Robert Herrick

Farewell thou thing, time past so known, so dear

To me as blood to life and spirit; near,

Dust

© Rupert Brooke

When the white flame in us is gone,
And we that lost the world's delight
Stiffen in darkness, left alone
To crumble in our separate night;

After Looking into Carlyles Reminiscences

© Algernon Charles Swinburne

I.

THREE MEN lived yet when this dead man was young

An English Peasant

© George Crabbe

To pomp and pageantry in nought allied,

A noble peasant, Isaac Ashford, died.

Song of Social Despair

© Marvin Bell

Ethics without faith, excuse me,
is the butter and not the bread.
You can’t nourish them all, the dead
pile up at the hospital doors.
And even they are not so numerous
as the mothers come in maternity.

In Which She Satisfies A Fear With The Rhetoric Of Tears

This afternoon, my love, speaking to you

since I could see that in your face and walk

A Birthday Greeting: To My Little Nephew

I know a happy little boy,
They call him Charlie Gray,
Whose face is bright, because you know,
He's six years old to-day.

My skeleton, my rival

Interesting that I have to live with my skeleton.
It stands, prepared to emerge, and I carry it
with me—this other thing I will become at death,
and yet it keeps me erect and limber in my walk,
my rival.

Streamers

© Wole Soyinka

1 As an archaeologist unearths a mask with opercular teeth
and abalone eyes, someone throws a broken fan and extension
cords
into a dumpster. A point of coincidence exists in the mind

Hannah

Then Seek ye Subject & its song be mine
Whose numbers next in Sacred story shine;
Go brightly-working thought, prepard to fly
Above ye page on hov'ring pinnions ly,
& beat with stronger force to make thee rise
Where beautious Hannah meets ye searching eyes.