Love poems
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Nonsuited.
© James Brunton Stephens
"DEAR RICHARD, come at once;" so ran her letter;
The letter of a married female friend:
The Cathedral
© James Russell Lowell
Far through the memory shines a happy day,
Cloudless of care, down-shod to every sense,
Thou Lingering Star
© Robert Burns
Thou lingering star, with less'ning ray,
That lov'st to greet the early morn,
Pray for the Dead
© Arthur Wentworth Hamilton Eaton
PRAY for the deadwho bids thee not?
Do all our human loves grow pale,
Or are the old needs all forgot
When men have passed within the veil?
A Rivulet
© Thomas Lovell Beddoes
It is a lovely stream; its wavelets purl
As if they echoed to the fall and rise
The Lamp
© Sara Teasdale
If I can bear your love like a lamp before me,
When I go down the long steep Road of Darkness,
I shall not fear the everlasting shadows,
Nor cry in terror.
A Man Young And Old: IV. The Death Of The Hare
© William Butler Yeats
I have pointed out the yelling pack,
The hare leap to the wood,
And when I pass a compliment
Rejoice as lover should
At the drooping of an eye,
At the mantling of the blood.
To Her Whose Name
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
To her whose name,
With its sweet sibilant sound like sudden showers
Splashing the grass and flowers,
Hath set my April heart aflame;
Anacreontic
© William Shenstone
'Twas in a cool Aonian glade,
The wanton Cupid, spent with toil,
Had sought refreshment from the shade,
And stretch'd him on the mossy soil.
Italy : 4. The Great St. Bernard
© Samuel Rogers
Night was again descending, when my mule,
That all day long had climbed among the clouds,
Higher and higher still, as by a stair
Let down from heaven itself, transporting me,
New-Year's Eve
© Eugene Field
But the spectre stood in that yonder gloom,
And these were the words it spake,
"Tick-tock, tick-tock"--and they seemed to mock
A heart about to break.
The Maid of Gerringong
© Henry Kendall
Rolling through the gloomy gorges, comes the roaring southern blast,
With a sound of torrents flying, like a routed army, past,
To Constantia
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
The rose that drinks the fountain dew
In the pleasant air of noon,
Grows pale and blue with altered hue
Fairy Singing
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
SHE was my love and the pulse of my heart;
Lovely she was as the flowers that start
Straight to the sun from the earth's tender breast,
Sweet as the wind blowing out of the west--
Elana, Elana, my strong one, my white one,
Soft be the wind blowing over your rest!
Send Her A Valentine
© Edgar Albert Guest
Send her a valentine to say
You love her in the same old way.
A Song of Honour
© Ralph Hodgson
I climbed a hill as light fell short,
And rooks came home in scramble sort,
On The Receipt Of My Mother's Picture Out Of Norfolk
© William Cowper
Oh that those lips had language! Life has pass'd
With me but roughly since I heard thee last.
Those lips are thinethy own sweet smiles I see,
The same that oft in childhood solaced me
Of The Terrible Doubt Of Apperarances
© Walt Whitman
OF the terrible doubt of appearances,
Of the uncertainty after all-that we may be deluded,
