Love poems

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Sonnet XLII: Hope Overtaken

© Dante Gabriel Rossetti

I deemed thy garments, O my Hope, were grey,

So far I viewed thee. Now the space between

Show Me The Place

© Christian Frederik Louis Leipoldt

Show me the place where we stood side by side,

Once, when you were mine -

When You Come

© Maya Angelou

When you come to me, unbidden,
Beckoning me
To long-ago rooms,
Where memories lie.

New Life, New Love

© Henry Lawson

The breezes blow on the river below,

And the fleecy clouds float high,

The Temple

© Edgar Lee Masters

Beyond the gates of Hercules
The seven builders took the stone,
Spurned everywhere in days of ease,
Long lying loose and overthrown,
Now carried over bitter seas
Where crystally Arcturus shone!

Of course, there is no lack of faithful Christians ,too.
Most of Lithuanians are men of good character;
They love their families, obey the will of God.
Each day live saintly lives, steer clear of all misdeeds,
And rule their modest homes with kind parental care.

Love Recalled in Sleep

© Robert Fuller Murray

There was a time when in your face
There dwelt such power, and in your smile
I know not what of magic grace;
They held me captive for a while.

Sonnet IV.

© Christopher Pearse Cranch

FRIEND, dear as Memory's joys! of life that 's past
A part, and part of better life to come,
If life to come there be, in some dear home
Beyond the rigid clouds that overcast

Swan Song

© Algernon Charles Swinburne

We are not sure of sorrow,

And joy was never sure;

In The White Giant's Thigh

© Dylan Thomas

Through throats where many rivers meet, the curlews cry,
Under the conceiving moon, on the high chalk hill,
And there this night I walk in the white giant's thigh
Where barren as boulders women lie longing still

Best

© Helen Hunt Jackson

Mother, I see you with your nursery light,
Leading your babies, all in white,
To their sweet rest;
Christ, the Good Shepherd, carries mine tonight,
And that is best.

A Womans Sonnets: IX

© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

The day draws nigh, methinks, when I could stay
Calm in thy presence with no dream of ill,
When, having put all earthliness away,
I could be near thee, touching thee, and still

Weep Not Too Much

© Anne Brontë

Weep not too much, my darling;

Sigh not too oft for me;

A Catholic To His Ulster Brother

Is there no bond of blood to you, my brother?

Who have called her ours, the ancient Mother,

The Girl's Lamentation

With grief and mourning I sit to spin;
My Love passed by, and he didn't come in;
He passes by me, both day and night,
And carries off my poor heart's delight.

By A Norfolk Broad

One hour ago the crimson sun, that seemed so long a-drowning, sank.
The summer day is all but done. Our boat is moored beneath the bank.
I bask in peace, content, replete-my faithful comrade at my feet.

The Indian Hunter

When the summer harvest was gathered in,
And the sheaf of the gleaner grew white and thin,
And the ploughshare was in its furrow left,
Where the stubble land had been lately cleft,
An Indian hunter, with unstrung bow,
Looked down where the valley lay stretched below.