Love poems
/ page 750 of 1285 /The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 09
© William Langland
"Sire Dowel dwelleth,' quod Wit, "noght a day hennes
In a castel that Kynde made of foure kynnes thynges.
City Without a Name
© Czeslaw Milosz
1
Who will honor the city without a name
If so many are dead and others pan gold
Or sell arms in faraway countries?
[Yesterday, the sunshine made the air glow]
© James Russell Lowell
Circling as hunters aim down on me
while you rise, rise, rise into the blue sky
and meet me over in the next fields.
The Definition of Gardening
© James Tate
Jim just loves to garden, yes he does.
He likes nothing better than to put on
Proem
© John Greenleaf Whittier
I LOVE the old melodious lays
Which softly melt the ages through,
The songs of Spensers golden days,
Arcadian Sidneys silvery phrase,
Sprinkling our noon of time with freshest morning dew.
Resolution and Independence
© André Breton
There was a roaring in the wind all night;
The rain came heavily and fell in floods;
The Slave Auction
© Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
The sale began—young girls were there,
Defenseless in their wretchedness,
Whose stifled sobs of deep despair
Revealed their anguish and distress.
Pro Femina
© John Betjeman
But we need dependency, cosseting, and well-treatment.
So do men sometimes. Why don’t they admit it?
We will be cows for a while, because babies howl for us,
Be kittens or bitches, who want to eat grass now and then
For the sake of our health. But the role of pastoral heroine
Is not permanent, Jack. We want to get back to the meeting.
My Father in the Night Commanding No
© Louis Simpson
My father in the night commanding No
Has work to do. Smoke issues from his lips;
He reads in silence.
The frogs are croaking and the street lamps glow.
After This The Judgement
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
As eager homebound traveller to the goal,
Or steadfast seeker on an unsearched main,
Complaint Of The Absence Of Her Lover Being Upon The Sea
© Henry Howard
O HAPPY dames! that may embrace
The fruit of your delight,
Aileen
© Henry Kendall
A splendid sun betwixt the trees
Long spikes of flame did shoot,
When turning to the fragrant South,
With longing eyes and burning mouth,
I stretched a hand athwart the drouth,
And plucked at cooling fruit.
Love and Life: A Song
© John Wilmot
All my past life is mine no more,
The flying hours are gone,
Like transitory dreams givn oer,
Whose images are kept in store
By memory alone.
To Mrs K____, On Her Sending Me an English Christmas Plum-Cake at Paris
© Helen Maria Williams
What crowding thoughts around me wake,
What marvels in a Christmas-cake!
Epitaph
© Elinor Wylie
For this she starred her eyes with salt
And scooped her temples thin,
Until her face shone pure of fault
From the forehead to the chin.
The Ground Squirrel
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
From a nook just as cosy,
And tranquil, and dozy,
As e'er wooed to Sybarite napping
(But none ever caught him a-napping).
"Don't you see his soft burrow so quaint, lad! and queer?"
To A Lady, Offended By A Sportive Observation That Women Have No Souls
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Nay, dearest Anna! why so grave?
I said, you had no soul, 'tis true!
For what you are, you cannot have:
'Tis I, that have one since I first had you!
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