Love poems
/ page 816 of 1285 /
Don Juan: Canto The Tenth
© George Gordon Byron
When Newton saw an apple fall, he found
In that slight startle from his contemplation--
The Queen
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
From out the glow, from out the flame, from ruin fierce and wild,
I saw her come with dancing feet and glad face like a child,
Her red-gold hair, her snow-white brow, her gown of silken green
Out through the ruins of her home, she walked as would a queen.
Ni Houlihan, Ni Houlihan, she came a splendid queen.
Bored And Sad
© Mikhail Lermontov
It's boring and sad, and there's no one around
In times of my spirit's travail…
Desires!…What use is our vain and eternal desire?..
While years pass on by - all the best years!
To A Beautiful Quaker
© George Gordon Byron
Sweet girl! though only once we met,
That meeting I shall ne'er forget;
Spring Has Leapt Into Summer
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Spring has leapt into Summer.
A glory has gone from the green.
The flush of the poplar has sobered out,
The flame in the leaf of the lime is dulled:
But I am thinking of the young men
Whose faces are no more seen.
Annihilation
© Conrad Aiken
While the blue noon above us arches,
And the poplar sheds disconsolate leaves,
Tell me again why love bewitches,
And what love gives.
Night, Dim Night
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
Night, dim night, and it rains, my love, it rains,
(Art thou dreaming of me, I wonder)
The trees are sad, and the wind complains,
Outside the rolling of the thunder,
And the beat against the panes.
Prose Poem
© Larry Levis
Toad, hog, assassin, mirror. Some of its favorite words, which are breath. Or handwriting: the long tail of the y disappearing into a barn like a rodents, and suddenly it is winter after all.
After all what? After the ponds dry up in mid-August and the children drop pins down each canyon and listen for an echo. Next question, please. What sex is it, if it has any? Its a male. Its a white male Caucasian. No distinguishing birthmarks, the usual mole above the chin. Last seen crossing against a light in Omaha. Looks intelligent. But havent most Americans seen this poem at least once by now? At least once. Then, how is the disease being . . . communicated? As far as we can determine, it is communicated entirely by doubt. As soon as the poets reach their mid-twenties they begin living behind hedgerows. At the other end of the hedgerows someone attractive is laughing, either at them, or with a lover during sexual intercourse. So it is like prom night. Yes. But what is the end of prom night? The end of prom night is inside the rodent; it is the barn collapsing on a summer day. It is inside the guts of a rodent. Then, at least, you are permitted an unobstructed view of the plain? Yes. And what will be out there, then, on the plain? A rider approaching with a tense face, who cant see that this horse has white roses instead of eyes. You mean . . . the whole thing all over again. Unfortunately, yes, at least as far as we are permitted to see
Horatian Epode To The Duchess Of Malfi
© Allen Tate
Duchess: Who am I?
Bosola: Thou art a box of worm-seed, at best but a
salvatory of green mummy.
Book Third [Residence at Cambridge]
© William Wordsworth
IT was a dreary morning when the wheels
Rolled over a wide plain o'erhung with clouds,
And nothing cheered our way till first we saw
The long-roofed chapel of King's College lift
Turrets and pinnacles in answering files,
Extended high above a dusky grove.
The Secret
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
WHAT says the wind to the waving trees?
What says the wave to the river?
Merciles Beaute
© Geoffrey Chaucer
2.
And but your word wol helen hastely
My hertes wounde, whyl that hit is grene,
Your eyen two wol slee me sodenly,
I may the beaute of hem not sustene.
An Old Doll
© Ada Cambridge
Low on her little stool she sits
To make a nursing lap,
And cares for nothing but the form
Her little arms enwrap.
Cloudy Sky
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
And some dry nights she won't come out when she hears him callin'
The tears come streamin' on down his cheeks and that's the rain a fallin'
Don't ya feel it baby hat's the rain a fallin'
Love is just a cloudy sky as far as I can see
And that ol' cloud up in the sky's got as much a chance in love as me
Book Of Suleika - The Loving One Again
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
WRITES he in Neski,
Faithfully speaks he;
Writes he in Tali,
Joy to give, seeks he:
Writes he in either,
Good!-for he loves!
All here
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
IT is not what we say or sing,
That keeps our charm so long unbroken,
Seventy-Six
© William Cullen Bryant
What heroes from the woodland sprung,
When, through the fresh awakened land,
The thrilling cry of freedom rung,
And to the work of warfare strung
The yeoman's iron hand!
