Love poems

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The Passionate Poet

© Frank Morton

I dearly long -- perhaps you've learned
The process, and will let me know it --
To stop a fierce and curdling wail
And muzzle a forsaken poet.

Summer Dawn.

© Robert Crawford

Come with thy feet to the water, and bathe
Thy beauty here in the stream that will not pass!
The soft green leaves with their shadows swathe
The either bank, and under the ferns and grass

Translation Of Part Of The First Book Of The Aeneid

© William Wordsworth

THE EDITORS OF THE PHILOLOGICAL MUSEUM

BUT Cytherea, studious to invent

Marmion: Introduction to Canto IV.

© Sir Walter Scott

An ancient minstrel sagely said,

"Where is the life which late we led?"

A Similitude

© Charles Harpur

FAIR as the nightwhen all the astral fires

Of heaven are burning in the clear expanse,

To Mary In Heaven

© Robert Burns

Thou lingering star, with less'ning ray,

That lov'st to greet the early morn,

Dionysia

© Madison Julius Cawein

The day is dead; and in the west

The slender crescent of the moon--

Floridian

© Madison Julius Cawein

The cactus and the aloe bloom
Beneath the window of your room;
Your window where, at evenfall,
Beneath the twilight's first pale star,
You linger, tall and spiritual,
And hearken my guitar.

Edwin and Eltruda, a Legendary Tale

© Helen Maria Williams

Where the pure Derwent's waters glide
Along their mossy bed,
Close by the river's verdant side,
A castle rear'd its head.

A Shamrock From The Irish Shore

© Denis Florence MacCarthy

O postman! speed thy tardy gait-

Go quicker round from door to door;

Oh, What A Bump!

© George Ade

" That was the tackiest time I've had
In twenty years or more.
The crowd was jay and the tea was bad
And the whole affair a bore!"

Cui Bono?

© Henry Kendall

A CLAMOUR by day and a whisper by night,
And the Summer comeswith the shining noons,
With the ripple of leaves, and the passionate light
Of the falling suns and the rising moons.

A Tardy Apology

© Eugene Field

You ask me, friend,
Why I don't send
The long since due-and-paid-for numbers;
Why, songless, I
As drunken lie
Abandoned to Lethean slumbers.

A Prologue

While to the clarion blown by Marlowes breath

Tall Tragedy tramped by in hues of death,

Tale XIII

hall,
Sires, sons, and sons of sons, were buried all,
She then abounded, and had wealth to spare
For softening grief she once was doom'd to share;
Thus train'd in misery's school, and taught to

All all and all the dry worlds lever,
Stage of the ice, the solid ocean,
All from the oil, the pound of lava.
City of spring, the governed flower,
Turns in the earth that turns the ashen
Towns around on a wheel of fire.