Love poems
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Sylvester’s Dying Bed
© Langston Hughes
I woke up this mornin’
’Bout half-past three.
All the womens in town
Was gathered round me.
To fight aloud is very brave - (138)
© Emily Dickinson
To fight aloud, is very brave -
But gallanter, I know
Who charge within the bosom
The Calvary of Wo -
A Scene At The Banks Of The Hudson
© William Cullen Bryant
Cool shades and dews are round my way,
And silence of the early day;
The Wrens Nest
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
I TOOK the wren's nest;--
Heaven forgive me!
Its merry architects so small
Had scarcely finished their wee hall,
Song #3.
© Robert Crawford
Love's but to be had this way:
Reverent you must be with her,
Letting your heart night and day
Dreamy in her beauty stir.
After Catullus and Horace
© Bernadette Mayer
only the manners of centuries ago can teach me
how to address you my lover as who you are
Forehead of the Rose
© René Char
Despite the open window in the room of long absence, the odor of the rose is still linked with the
breath that was there. Once again we are without previous experience, newcomers, in love. The
rose! The field of its ways would dispel even the effrontery of death. No grating stands in the way.
Desire is alive, an ache in our vaporous foreheads.
The Recluse - Book First
© William Wordsworth
HOME AT GRASMERE
ONCE to the verge of yon steep barrier came
A roving school-boy; what the adventurer's age
Hath now escaped his memory--but the hour,
Her Beautiful Eyes
© James Whitcomb Riley
O her beautiful eyes! they are as blue as the dew
On the violet's bloom when the morning is new,
And the light of their love is the gleam of the sun
O'er the meadows of Spring where the quick shadows run:
As the morn shirts the mists and the clouds from the skies--
So I stand in the dawn of her beautiful eyes.
Sapphics
© Archibald Lampman
Clothed in splendour, beautifully sad and silent,
Comes the autumn over the woods and highlands,
Golden, rose-red, full of divine remembrance,
Full of foreboding.
Paradise Lost: Book IX (1674)
© Patrick Kavanagh
To whom the Virgin Majestie of Eve,
As one who loves, and some unkindness meets,
With sweet austeer composure thus reply'd,
Mummia
© Rupert Brooke
As those of old drank mummia
To fire their limbs of lead,
Making dead kings from Africa
Stand pandar to their bed;
Last May a Braw Wooer
© Robert Burns
Last May a braw wooer cam down the lang glen,
And sair wi' his love he did deave me;
I said there was naething I hated like men:
The deuce gae wi 'm to believe me, believe me,
The deuce gae wi 'm to believe me.
The Image In Lava
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Thou thing of years departed!
What ages have gone by,
Since here the mournful seal was set
By love and agony!
