Love poems
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If You Said You Would Come With Me
© John Ashbery
In town it was very urban but in the country cows were covering the hills. The clouds were near and very moist. I was walking along the pavement with Anna, enjoying the scattered scenery. Suddenly a sound like a deep bell came from behind us. We both turned to look. “It’s the words you spoke in the past, coming back to haunt you,” Anna explained. “They always do, you know.”
Indeed I did. Many times this deep bell-like tone had intruded itself on my thoughts, scrambling them at first, then rearranging them in apple-pie order. “Two crows,” the voice seemed to say, “were sitting on a sundial in the God-given sunlight. Then one flew away.”
“Yes . . . and then?” I wanted to ask, but I kept silent. We turned into a courtyard and walked up several flights of stairs to the roof, where a party was in progress. “This is my friend Hans,” Anna said by way of introduction. No one paid much attention and several guests moved away to the balustrade to admire the view of orchards and vineyards, approaching their autumn glory. One of the women however came to greet us in a friendly manner. I was wondering if this was a “harvest home,” a phrase I had often heard but never understood.
“Welcome to my home . . . well, to our home,” the woman said gaily. “As you can see, the grapes are being harvested.” It seemed she could read my mind. “They say this year’s vintage will be a mediocre one, but the sight is lovely, nonetheless. Don’t you agree, Mr. . . .”
Book Of Suleika - Love For Love
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Yet thou feeblest, at my lay,
Ever some half-hidden sorrow;
Could I Joseph's graces borrow,
The Evening Darkens Over
© John Hall Wheelock
The evening darkens over
After a day so bright
The windcapt waves discover
That wild will be the night.
There’s sound of distant thunder.
To an Echo on the Banks of the Hunter [Early Version]
© Charles Harpur
I hear thee, echo! And I start to hear thee
With a strange shock, as from among the hills
Feel Me
© May Swenson
“Feel me to do right,” our father said on his deathbed.
We did not quite know—in fact, not at all—what he meant.
Thanksgiving
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
When first in ancient time, from Jubal's tongue
The tuneful anthem filled the morning air,
To You
© Kenneth Koch
I love you as a sheriff searches for a walnut
That will solve a murder case unsolved for years
Fabrication of Ancestors
© Alan Dugan
For old Billy Dugan, shot in the ass in the Civil war, my father said.
The old wound in my ass
Kneeling With Herrick
© James Whitcomb Riley
Dear Lord, to Thee my knee is bent.--
Give me content--
Song in a Minor Key
© Dorothy Parker
There's a place I know where the birds swing low,
And wayward vines go roaming,
Elegiac Stanzas In Memory Of My Brother, John Commander Of The E. I. Companys Ship The Earl Of Aber
© William Wordsworth
I
THE Sheep-boy whistled loud, and lo!
That instant, startled by the shock,
The Buzzard mounted from the rock
A Dedication - To K.S.G.
© Henry Timrod
Fair Saxon, in my lover's creed,
My love were smaller than your meed,
Sic Vita
© William Stanley Braithwaite
Heart free, hand free,
Blue above, brown under,
All the world to me
Is a place of wonder.
When I Heard At The Close Of The Day
© Walt Whitman
For the one I love most lay sleeping by me under the same cover in
the cool night,
In the stillness, in the autumn moonbeams, his face was inclined
toward me,
And his arm lay lightly around my breast-and that night I was happy.
The Parade
© Billy Collins
How exhilarating it was to march
along the great boulevards
in the sunflash of trumpets
and under all the waving flags
the flag of ambition, the flag of love.
April Love
© Ernest Christopher Dowson
We have walked in Love's land a little way,
We have learnt his lesson a little while,
And shall we not part at the end of day,
With a sigh, a smile?
