Love poems
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A Judgment In Heaven
© Francis Thompson
Athwart the sod which is treading for God * the poet paced with his
splendid eyes;
Paradise-verdure he stately passes * to win to the Father of
Paradise,
Through the conscious and palpitant grasses * of inter-tangled
relucent dyes.
St. Valentine's Day
© Edgar Albert Guest
Let loose the sails of love and let them fill
With breezes sweet with tenderness to-day;
Scorn not the praises youthful lovers say;
Romance is old, but it is lovely still.
Not he who shows his love deserves the jeer,
But he who speaks not what she longs to hear.
The City Dead-House
© Walt Whitman
BY the City Dead-House, by the gate,
As idly sauntering, wending my way from the clangor,
Thoughts on Predestination and Reprobation : Part III.
© John Byrom
Whereas, this Reprobation Doctrine, here,
Not only Sense and Reason would cashier;
To A Young Lady, Who Was Fond Of Fortune-Telling
© Matthew Prior
You, Madam, may, with safety go
Decrees of destiny to know;
The Purple Cow Parodies
© Carolyn Wells
I never saw a Purple Cow,
I never hope to see one;
But I can tell you, anyhow,
I'd rather see than be one.
Her Going
© Eleanor Agnes Lee
The Wife
Child, why do you linger beside her portal?
None shall hear you now if you knock or clamor*
All is dark, hidden in heaviest leafage.
None shall behold you.
Damon vs. Pythias
© William Schwenck Gilbert
Two better friends you wouldn't pass
Throughout a summer's day,
Than DAMON and his PYTHIAS, -
Two merchant princes they.
Sunny New South Wales
© Anonymous
We often hear men boast about the land which gave them birth,
And each one thinks his native land the fairest spot on earth;
The First School Day
© Alice Guerin Crist
We are saddling Don and Laddie,
Mid laughter, and fun and noise
And maybe, a sigh in passing
For vanished holiday joys.
The Flower.
© Robert Crawford
I.
The flower in its own scent breathes till it dies
As if the scent its very birth-breath were
(As love is life's) which, while it occupies
The Dole Of The King's Daughter (Breton)
© Oscar Wilde
Seven stars in the still water,
And seven in the sky;
Seven sins on the King's daughter,
Deep in her soul to lie.
Alfred Tennyson
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Tears, idle tears! Ah, who shall bid us weep,
Now that thy lyre, O prophet, is unstrung?
What voice shall rouse the dull world from its sleep
And lead its requiem as when Grief was young,
The Dreamer
© David MacDonald Ross
WHO seeks the shore where dreams outpour
Their floods in Slumber Seas
The Knight And The Lady
© William Makepeace Thackeray
There's in the Vest a city pleasant
To vich King Bladud gev his name,
And in that city there's a Crescent
Vere dwelt a noble knight of fame.
Sunday: New Guinea
© Karl Shapiro
The bugle sounds the measured call to prayers,
The band starts bravely with a clarion hymn,
From every side, singly, in groups, in pairs,
Each to his kind of service comes to worship Him.
