Love poems
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The Evening Of The Year
© Mathilde Blind
The grief of many partings near
Wails like an echo in the wind:
The days of love lie far behind,
The days of loss lie shuddering near.
Life's morning-glory who shall bind?
It is the evening of the year.
What My Father Left Behind
© Georg Trakl
Jam jar of cigarette ends and ashes on his workbench,
hammer he nailed our address to a stump with,
balsa wood steamship, half-finished—
Medea in Athens
© Augusta Davies Webster
Dimly I recall
some prophecy a god breathed by my mouth.
It could not err. What was it? For I think;-
it told his death¹.
Ask What I Shall Give Thee (I)
© John Newton
Come, my soul, thy suit prepare,
Jesus loves to answer prayer;
He Himself has bid thee pray,
Therefore will not say thee nay.
Emergency Haying
© Hayden Carruth
Coming home with the last load I ride standing
on the wagon tongue, behind the tractor
in hot exhaust, lank with sweat,
A Sonnet, To His Mother As A New Year's Gift From Cambridge
© George Herbert
My God, where is that ancient heat towards thee,
Wherewith whole shoals of martyrs once did burn,
from Georgics, III
© Virgil
Thus every Creature, and of every Kind,
The secret Joys of sweet Coition find:
Our Sailor
© John Jay Chapman
OH yes, he came again! But 'twas not he.
A youth no longer ours, nay, taller, older;
Decline and Fall
© Daniel Nester
Cornice rose in ranges, rose so high
It saw no sky, that forum, but noon sky.
Marble shone like shallows; columns too
Streamed with cool light as rocks in breakers do.
Trilogy Of Passion 03 Atonement
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Eternal beauty has its fruit to bear;
The eye grows moist, in yearnings blest reveres
The godlike worth of music as of tears.
The Affliction of Richard
© John Hall Wheelock
Love not too much. But how,
When thou hast made me such,
Vobiscum Est Iope
© Thomas Campion
When thou must home to shades of underground,
And there arrived, a new admirèd guest,
The beauteous spirits do engirt thee round,
White Iope, blithe Helen, and the rest,
To hear the stories of thy finished love
From that smooth tongue whose music hell can move;
Sonnet XXXVII: Pardon, Oh, Pardon
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Pardon, oh, pardon, that my soul should make,
Of all that strong divineness which I know
Seeing the Eclipse in Maine
© Robert Bly
It started about noon. On top of Mount Batte,
We were all exclaiming. Someone had a cardboard
And a pin, and we all cried out when the sun
Appeared in tiny form on the notebook cover.
It would be neat if with the New Year
© James Russell Lowell
I keep wearing them because they fit so good
and I need them, especially when I love so hard,
where I go up those boulder strewn trails,
where flowers crack rocks in their defiant love for the light.
Sonnet XXX: Last Fire
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Love,through your spirit and mine what summer eve
Now glows with glory of all things possess'd,
