Love poems
/ page 820 of 1285 /The Reason For Work
© Edgar Albert Guest
Some struggle hard for worldly fame,
Some toil to have an honored name,
My Lady April
© Ernest Christopher Dowson
Say, doth she weep for very wantonness?
Or is it that she dimly doth foresee
Across her youth the joys grow less and less
The burden of the days that are to be:
Autumn and withered leaves and vanity,
And winter bringing end in barrenness.
Song Of The Spinning Wheel
© William Wordsworth
SWIFTLY turn the murmuring wheel!
Night has brought the welcome hour,
When the weary fingers feel
Help, as if from faery power;
Dewy night o'ershades the ground;
Turn the swift wheel round and round!
Sauve Patria
© Ramon Lopez Velarde
Yo que sólo canté de la exquisita
partitura del íntimo decoro,
alzo hoy la voz a la mitad del foro
a la manera del tenor que imita
la gutural modulación del bajo,
para cortar a la epopeya un gajo.
The Drowned Lover
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
Ah! faint are her limbs, and her footstep is weary,
Yet far must the desolate wanderer roam;
Though the tempest is stern, and the mountain is dreary,
The Hyacinth
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
HERE in this wrecked storm-wasted garden-close
The grave of infinite generations fled
Of flowers that now lay lustreless and dead,
As the gray dust of Eden's earliest rose.
Life In Her Creaking Shoes
© William Ernest Henley
Life in her creaking shoes
Goes, and more formal grows,
Sea-Lavender
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Lavender, sea lavender!
Pale sweet flower how full of her!
Flower discreet, with your priest's eyes
Trained in all time's mysteries,
Irene
© James Russell Lowell
Hers is a spirit deep, and crystal-clear;
Calmly beneath her earnest face it lies,
Tristrams End
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Tristram
Isoult, Isoult, thy kiss!
To sorrow though I was made,
I die in bliss, in bliss.
Translation From The Medea Of Euripides
© George Gordon Byron
When fierce conflicting urge
The breast where love is wont to glow,
What mind can stem the stormy surge
Which rolls the tide of human woe?
Sonnet 138: "When my love swears that she is made of truth,..."
© William Shakespeare
When my love swears that she is made of truth,
I do believe her though I know she lies,
Three Students
© Johann Ludwig Uhland
Three students once tarried over the Rhine,
And into Frau Wirthin's turned to dine.
"Say, hostess, have you good beer and wine?
And where is that pretty daughter of thine?"
A Ballad Of Claremont Hill
© Henry Van Dyke
The roar of the city is low,
Muffled by new-fallen snow,
A Summer Pilgrimage
© John Greenleaf Whittier
To kneel before some saintly shrine,
To breathe the health of airs divine,
The Caged Bird
© Arthur Symons
A year ago I asked you for your soul;
I took it in my hands, it weighed as light
Homage To Sextus Propertius - I
© Ezra Pound
Flame burns, rain sinks into the cracks
And they all go to rack ruin beneath the thud of the years.
Stands genius a deathless adornment,
a name not to be worn out with the years.