Love poems

 / page 701 of 1285 /
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Sonnet III: Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest

© William Shakespeare

Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest,


Now is the time that face should form another,

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Plaisir

© Stephen Dunn

Diarrhea: what nobody likes,

though a word the French love to pronounce.

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A Poem for the Cruel Majority

© Jerome Rothenberg

Nothing can make the dark turn into light
for the cruel majority.
Nothing can make them feel hunger or terror.

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Madrigal in Time of War

© Daniel Nester

Beside the rivers of the midnight town
Where four-foot couples love and paupers drown, 
Shots of quick hell we took, our final kiss, 
The great and swinging bridge a bower for this.

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Vandergast and the Girl

© Louis Simpson

Vandergast to his neighbors—
the grinding of a garage door
and hiss of gravel in the driveway.

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Close Of Our Summer At Frascati

© Frances Anne Kemble

The end is come: in thunder and wild rain

  Autumn has stormed the golden house of Summer.

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Duncan Gray

© Robert Burns

Duncan Gray came here to woo,

 Ha, ha, the wooin o't!

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Forest And Field

© Madison Julius Cawein

I
GREEN, watery jets of light let through
The rippling foliage drenched with dew;
And golden glimmers, warm and dim,

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The Wound-Dresser

© Walt Whitman

But in silence, in dreams’ projections,
While the world of gain and appearance and mirth goes on,
So soon what is over forgotten, and waves wash the imprints off the sand,
With hinged knees returning I enter the doors, (while for you up there,
Whoever you are, follow without noise and be of strong heart.)

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Town Eclogues: Tuesday; St. James's Coffee-House

© Lady Mary Wortley Montagu

SILLIANDER and PATCH. THOU so many favours hast receiv'd,
Wondrous to tell, and hard to be believ'd,
Oh ! H—— D, to my lays attention lend,
Hear how two lovers boastingly contend ;
Like thee successful, such their bloomy youth,
Renown'd alike for gallantry and truth.

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Pastoral Sung To The King

© Robert Herrick

MON.  Bad are the times.  SIL.  And worse than they are we.

MON.  Troth, bad are both; worse fruit, and ill the tree:

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My Grandmother’s Love Letters

© Hart Crane

There are no stars tonight
But those of memory.
Yet how much room for memory there is
In the loose girdle of soft rain.

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Qui Docet, Discit

© Madison Julius Cawein

I.

  When all the world was white with flowers,

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Otho The Great - Act I

© John Keats

A TRAGEDY

IN FIVE ACTS

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The Chinaman

© Anonymous

What brings you here, John Chinaman,
Why come to New South Wales?
Why do you sail when breezes fan
The north side of your sails?

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A Trifle

© Henry Timrod

I know not why, but ev'n to me

My songs seem sweet when read to thee.

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Height In Depth

© Dante Gabriel Rossetti

HE turned his face apart, and gave a sigh

And a strange whimper—such a pitiful thing

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"Why art thou silent! Is thy love a plant"

© André Breton

Why art thou silent! Is thy love a plant


Of such weak fibre that the treacherous air

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My April Lady

© Henry Van Dyke

When down the stair at morning

  The sunbeams round her float,

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from “An Attempt at Jealousy”

© Marina Tsvetaeva

How is your life with that other one?
Simpler, is it? A stroke of the oars
and a long coastline—
and the memory of me