Love poems
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Faringdon Hill. Book II
© Henry James Pye
The sultry hours are past, and Phbus now
Spreads yellower rays along the mountain's brow:
Sonnet To The Strawberry
© Helen Maria Williams
THE Strawberry blooms upon its lowly bed,
Plant of my native soil!--the Lime may fling
Tired
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
I am tired to-night, and something,
The wind maybe, or the rain,
Or the cry of a bird in the copse outside,
Has brought back the past and its pain.
God of the Open Air
© Henry Van Dyke
But One, but One,-ah, child most dear,
And perfect image of the Love Unseen,-
Walked every day in pastures green,
And all his life the quiet waters by,
Reading their beauty with a tranquil eye.
In Memoriam F.O.S.
© Sara Teasdale
You go a long and lovely journey,
For all the stars, like burning dew,
Are luminous and luring footprints
Of souls adventurous as you.
I Know an Aged Man Constrained to Dwell
© William Wordsworth
I know an aged Man constrained to dwell
In a large house of public charity,
Where he abides, as in a Prisoner's cell,
With numbers near, alas! no company.
Earth And Moon
© Madison Julius Cawein
I saw the day like some great monarch die,
Gold-couched, behind the clouds' rich tapestries.
Love Sonnet XXXV
© Zora Bernice May Cross
He knows not perfect who has found the best,
Nor worth who would deny unworthiness.
But meanest flowers are fair as any rose
When blowing fragrant to our least behest.
So you are perfect in my heart no less
For that unworthiness my poor mind knows.
Sohrab and Rustum: An Episode
© Matthew Arnold
"Ferood, and ye, Persians and Tartars, hear!
Let there be truce between the hosts to-day.
But choose a champion from the Persian lords
To fight our champion Sohrab, man to man."
Jean Chouan
© Victor Marie Hugo
The Whites fled, and the Blues fired down the glade.
A hill the plain commanded and surveyed,
And round this hill, of trees and verdure bare,
Wild forests closed th' horizon everywhere.
Dusk
© Jose Asuncion Silva
The lamp that stands beside the crib
Is not yet lighted to warm the gloom
Of the blueish, opaque light falling
Through the curtains of late afternoon.
James Lionel Michael
© Henry Kendall
Latter leaves, in Autumns breath,
White and sere,
Sanctify the scholars death,
Lying here.
Chanson. - And Imitation
© Matthew Prior
Que fais tu bergere dans ce beau verger
Tu ne songe gueres a me soulager?
Tu connois ma flamme, tu vois ma langueur,
Prens belle inhumaine pitie de mon coeur.
How Florence Rings Her Bells
© Alfred Austin
With shimmer of steel and blare of brass,
And Switzers marching with martial stride,
And cavaliers trampling brown the grass,
Came bow-legged Charles through the Apennine pass,
With black Il Moro for traitor guide;
Any Woman
© Katharine Tynan
I am the pillars of the house;
The keystone of the arch am I.
Take me away, and roof and wall
Would fall to ruin me utterly.
from "A Sigh For Old Times"
© William Taylor Collins
There's not a spot around old Strabane but memory treasures still
From Milltown wide to Crogan's side but has my right good will
And all my comrades kind and true I loved in life's young day
Who roamed with me in reckles glee by many abank and brae.
The Half Of Life Gone
© William Morris
No, no, it is she no longer; never again can she come
And behold the hay-wains creeping o'er the meadows of her home;
No more can she kiss her son or put the rake in his hand
That she handled a while agone in the midst of the haymaking band.
Her laughter is gone and her life; there is no such thing on the earth,
No share for me then in the stir, no share in the hurry and mirth.
In The Meadow - What In The Meadow?
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
In the meadow - what in the meadow?
Bluebells, buttercups, meadowsweet,
