Love poems
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Notes To A Neophyte
© Sylvia Plath
Take the general mumble,
blunt as the faceless gut
of an anonymous clam,
vernacular as the strut
of a slug or a small preamble
by snail under hump of home:
The Opossum-Hunters
© Henry Kendall
Twisted boughs shall tremble oer us, hollow woods shall moan before us,
And the torrents like a chorus down the gorges dark shall sing;
And the vines shall shake and shiver, and the startled grasses quiver,
Like the reeds beside a river in the gusty days of Spring;
While we forward haste delighted, through a region seldom lighted
Souls impatient, hearts excited like a wind upon the wing!
Till Deathis narrow Loving
© Emily Dickinson
Till Deathis narrow Loving
The scantest Heart extant
Will hold you till your privilege
Of Finitenessbe spent
The Indian Cupid
© Louisa Stuart Costello
Often and long, on the summer sea,
In the moonlight have I watched for thee
When the glittering beam was downward thrown,
And each wave with a crest of diamond shone.
I have seen the thin clouds sail along,
And I raised, to welcome thee, many a song;
An Epistle To Fleetwood Shephard, Esq. Burleigh, May 14, 1689
© Matthew Prior
Sir,
As once a twelvemonth to the priest,
A vision
© John Clare
I lost the love of heaven above,
I spurned the lust of earth below,
I felt the sweets of fancied love
And hell itself my only foe.
Great Mullen
© William Carlos Williams
One leaves his leaves at home
beomg a mullen and sends up a lighthouse
When Rody Came To Ironbark
© Alice Guerin Crist
When Rody came to Ironbark, 'twas fun to watch the girls,
Such sorting out of frills and frocks such pinning up of curls,
there were no 'bob's no 'shingles' then but ringlets floated down,
and the the curling tongs worked overtime, when Rody came to town.
November
© Sara Teasdale
The world is tired, the year is old,
The little leaves are glad to die,
The wind goes shivering with cold
Among the rushes dry.
Aside
© Karl Shapiro
Mail-day, and over the world in a thousand drag-nets
The bundles of letters are dumped on the docks and beaches,
And all that is dear to the personal conscious reaches
Around us again like filings around iron magnets,
And war stands aside for an hour and looks at our faces
Of total absorption that seem to have lost their places.
Romance Of A Youngest Daughter
© John Crowe Ransom
Who will wed the Dowagers youngest daughter,
The Captain? filled with ale?
He moored his expected boat to a stake in the water
And stumbled on sea-legs into the Hall for mating,
Only to be seduced by her lady-in-waiting,
Round-bosomed, and not so pale.
Earth's Preference
© George Meredith
Earth loves her young: a preference manifest:
She prompts them to her fruits and flower-beds;
Idyll XXXI. Loves
© Theocritus
Ah for this the most accursed, unendurable of ills!
Nigh two months a fevered fancy for a maid my bosom fills.
Fair she is, as other damsels: but for what the simplest swain
Claims from the demurest maiden, I must sue and sue in vain.
The White-Footed Deer
© William Cullen Bryant
It was a hundred years ago,
When, by the woodland ways,
The traveller saw the wild deer drink,
Or crop the birchen sprays.
Pharsalia - Book III: Massilia
© Marcus Annaeus Lucanus
Phoenicians first (if story be believed)
Dared to record in characters; for yet
Papyrus was not fashioned, and the priests
Of Memphis, carving symbols upon walls
Of mystic sense (in shape of beast or fowl)
Preserved the secrets of their magic art.
Heroes
© Emma Lazarus
In rich Virginian woods,
The scarlet creeper reddens over graves,
Among the solemn trees enlooped with vines;
Heroic spirits haunt the solitudes,-
The noble souls of half a million braves,
Amid the murmurous pines.
